Demons in Dreams
by Boann
Summary: They thought the events of Spring Break were behind them. Unfortunately for Alan, The Hood was just getting started.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm baaaaaaack!**

**Hello to everyone!**

**After many months of settling into the life of a full time worker, I have finally managed to write another fic for you all! To celebrate, I have posted not one, but TWO chapters to start you off on this one. **

**Please review and let me know what you think. I'm a bit rusty with this so I'll be relying on you all for you thoughts.**

**Boann xx  
**

"Dreaming men are haunted men." – Anon.

**Chapter One**

The day did not start with a dream. Rather it began with a water balloon, a door, and an unsuspecting Scott Tracy.

"Gordon!"

Alan smiled as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. "Yep, a normal day," he mused aloud. He opened his bedroom to stick his head out into the hallway. He wasn't stupid enough to step outside before checking that the coast was clear. His intelligence saved him from being bowled over by Gordon, who ran past with an ecstatic look on his face.

He was followed by Scott, who was covered in something green.

_Something tells me that balloon had more than water in it_, Alan couldn't help but grin.

He exchanged a look with John, who was standing in his bedroom doorway across the hall observing the scene with a sleepy but amused expression on his face. The two blonde brothers strode down the hall together, following the commotion. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, but that was normal too. Virgil wouldn't wake for the apocalypse if it started anytime before ten in the morning.

"What did Gordon do this time?" Alan asked as he and John trudged down the curved slope that was the staircase. Their dad had designed the house around the time Gordon was recovering from his hydro-foil accident. Gordon's paralysis, however temporary, had inspired Jeff to install the ramp instead of stairs.

John yawned. "I don't know. But I think I know how it's going to end."

Alan nodded knowingly just as an almighty splash came from outside.

"That's a new record," Alan laughed as they ran outside.

"Scott's getting faster," John agreed.

Their expectations didn't disappoint. Gordon was spluttering and floundering in the pool and Scott was standing triumphantly on the side.

"Don't blame me!" Gordon protested. "Dad told you that if you didn't eat your peas at dinner, you'd have them for breakfast!"

Scott put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, when I was five!"

"You know what government departments are like. The judicial system is always slow to issue punishment," Gordon replied cockily.

"About twenty years late, in this case," Scott hotly pointed out.

Gordon shrugged. "Better late than never."

"If you know as much as you seem to about capital punishment, you'll try very hard not to breach the restraining order I'm taking out on you!" Scott marched away.

Only when he disappeared into the house did John and Alan begin chuckling.

"You're telling me that green stuff's peas?" Alan asked Gordon.

Gordon easily pulled himself out of the pool with a grin. "With a little food colouring to add flavour," he said, picking up a towel that lay on one of the loungers and dabbing his face. "Though Scott won't realise until he showers."

"You'd better start running, boy," John shook his head, putting an arm around Alan's shoulders and steering him towards the house for breakfast.

Gordon followed, quickly drying himself and hanging the towel around his neck. "Ah, John," he sighed. "You have not been studying the bible as closely as you should. Remember the lessons of the saints. Lesson one, love and honour the Lord. Two, not even a threat against your life must cometh between you and Onaha's pancakes."

John and Alan laughed.

"Good morning," Onaha chirped from the kitchen. She pointed to the table, where three plates of steaming pancakes waited for them. "I made blueberry ones just for you, John."  
John helped himself to a mug of coffee, shooting Onaha a winning Tracy smile. "Onaha, you're my angel."

Gordon shot Alan a dramatically besotted look as the two sat down to eat. Alan stifled a snort as John joined them.

"What's up, Alan?" John asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing," Alan shook his head.

"I think what meant was 'pass the syrup'" Gordon offered.

Alan couldn't mask his laugh this time.

"Good morning, boys!"

Their father's cheerful voice made them look up. Jeff, dressed in crisp white slacks and shirt and holding a mug of coffee that seemed to be fused to his hand, joined them at the table.

_Saved_, thought Alan.

Jeff thanked Onaha, who appeared with a plate for him, and proceeded to inspect his sons. "I notice some empty seats," he commented, tucking into his food.

"Virgil's still asleep," John informed him.

"Naturally," Jeff smiled. "Scott's not normally late, though. He'll be upset to know we're eating Onaha's pancakes without him."

"I'm sure he's _green_ with envy," Gordon threw in, causing John and Alan to choke on their food.

Jeff's eyes swept them all knowingly. "I'm not going to ask," he said, raising his eyebrows at Gordon.

"Probably safer," agreed Gordon through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Speaking of safer," Alan said, finishing his breakfast. "I'd better go before Scott gets back down. I'm going to see what Fermat's up to. He seems to like that bug more than me these days."

"Do you think someone forgot to mention to him that studying the life of an insect over the holidays didn't require sitting next to the tank the _whole time_?" Gordon asked.

_Obviously,_ Alan thought gloomily. But rather than sharing this thought, he smiled and did what friends do. "He doesn't sit there the _whole_ time," he defended. "And besides, we all know how much Fermat wants that scholarship to go to Greenburg's Science Academy during the last two weeks of the summer. The competition's pretty high."

"If you ask me, the boy-genius erased all competition the day he was born," Gordon commented as Alan headed up-ramp to Fermat's room.

"He seems okay."

Jeff smiled. As soon as Alan disappeared, so did Gordon's game face. It had been many weeks since the Hood attacked Tracy Island. The spring break had come and gone and the new term had brought a lot of changes. Once the damage had been repaired and the demons had been vanquished, things had started to return to normal and even improve in some cases. Brains had created several engineering masterpieces to improve security on all the Thunderbirds. Alan's grades had greatly improved, as had his maturity and vision. The Tracy's had become even stronger as a family. Fermat and Tintin had grown too. Fermat had gained a new confidence and Tintin was constantly testing her skills under the guidance of Lady Penelope. She'd triumphantly beaten Scott at martial arts a few times now, much to the delight of Alan and Gordon.

However, one thing had not changed at all. Despite Alan's great term report and renewed enthusiasm, his brothers had remained watchful guardians of their little brother. Jeff wasn't sure if the summer holidays and Alan's subsequent presence at home would encourage the boys' protectiveness to ease or worsen.

"Of course he's fine," Jeff told Gordon. "He's a Tracy. You shouldn't be worried about him."

"Okay, _that's_ unrealistic," Gordon rolled his eyes. "He's our little brother."

"And I know he'll always be," Jeff agreed. "But be careful. Despite your subtlety, he's not stupid. He knows you're keeping an eye on him. Just don't push too hard. Let him grow."

"At least we'll have the summer to spend some time together. It should help ease our worries," John commented, ever the diplomat.

"Tell that to Lady Greensleeves," Gordon jerked his head towards the first floor. "You know once he and the Doctor Dozy get started with their mother hen routine, there's no stopping them."

"Speaking of Scott, shouldn't you be gaining distance?" John pointed out.

"Gordon!"

They all jumped at Scott's bellow from above.

Gordon quickly stood. "That's my exit cue."

John and Jeff chuckled. "Surprising how quickly a fish can run," Jeff mused.

His brow furrowed as he leaned on the table, cupping his coffee with both hands. "So how is he?" he asked quietly.

John couldn't hide his smile. Jeff could preach all he wanted to about giving Alan space, but in reality, he was just as bad.

Shortly after Alan had returned, John had quietly revealed he'd heard noises coming from his little brother's room at night. It had become evident after a few nights that Alan was having nightmares. Being right across the hall from the youngest Tracy, John had heard everything.

_Maybe not all of the demons have been banished,_ Jeff mused.

John had been keeping his father up to date on what he was hearing. And privately, the two of them had agreed to keep the secret lest the others frighten Alan with their smothering.

"Last night was quiet," John reported, softly. "I try to find the right time to talk to him about it. But I guess I'm just as scared to bring everything up again."

Jeff nodded, understanding. The attack had been hard on John too. Trapped in a burning space station for hours had left more scars than the injuries had. Jeff had been John's confidant during the aftermath. The two would often talk long into the night. Although the station had been repaired, Jeff was sure that some quality time with family would help prepare John to resume duty. Brains had been only too enthusiastic to spend some time at the station tweaking his latest creations. He'd even mentioned bringing Fermat up on the next supply run for some quality time together. Although the next supply run wasn't for another ten days, Jeff had heard that Fermat had already packed his bags.

John must have picked up on what he was thinking. "I'm ready to go back, Dad," he said surely. "But I want to make sure Alan's okay before I do. The attack made me realise how much I've been missing out on him growing up. I'd like to talk to him first."

Jeff smiled, putting a hand on John's shoulder. "Of course, son."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Fermat!"

Unresponsive to the call of his name, Fermat shifted to the edge of his seat to more closely inspect the eight-legged insect. His nose almost touched the glass tank set neatly on his desk. This was no 'bug-in-an-ice-cream-container' project. This was Fermat Hackenbacker's project. He had specifically designed the environment inside the specialised tank to mimic the insect's natural habitat. A blue, fluorescent tube suspended inside the tank offered the right mix of light and heat that was, again, an imitation of the island's climate. From a small control box, Fermat adjusted the settings as required. Perched on a branch within the impressive home sat a spider. It was no bigger than Fermat's palm, with long spindly brown legs wrapped in thin yellow bands. Fermat grinned as the spider began to delicately move off the branch and into a cluster of leaves it seemed to favour during the day.

"In…in….amazing," he murmured to himself, making a note of it in his notepad. "It's f…f…"

"Fermat!"

Fermat nearly whacked his head against the tank when he jumped. Alan had two volumes; loud and louder. But no matter how well Fermat knew that, the boisterous blonde always managed to catch him off-guard. Fermat turned to smile at his best friend, who stood in the doorway of his room. Alan's expression was mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Alan grinned, joining Fermat next to the tank. "You know it's considered unhealthy for you to enjoy homework," he said.

Fermat poked him with his pencil. "I'm t…t…attempting to identify its species," he explained.

"Wait, you went into the jungle and brought home an _unknown_ species of spider?" Alan asked incredulously. "What if it's poisonous?"

"According to my ob…ob…examinations of the specimen, it doesn't appear to have the physical characteristics of a p...p…venomous species," Fermat pushed his glasses higher up his nose and leaned over to again inspect the tank.

"If you say so," Alan shrugged, leaning down with him. "Just promise me you won't stick your hand in there until you know for sure."

Fermat gave him an expression that said 'duh!'

"So where is it, anyway?" Alan squinted.

Fermat pointed to where the spider was nestled within a cocoon of leaves. Alan nodded, grimacing at the sight of the ferocious insect. _Science experiment or not, spiders still freak me out. _

"Great," he mused distastefully. "Well, as much as I'd love to hang out here in your dark room…"

"The spider seems to be more active during the night," Fermat explained. "I'm s…s…gradually trying to mimic this condition, but it doesn't appear to be easily c…c…fooled."

"Right," Alan cringed. "So I guess there's no chance you'd fancy coming outside? I'm going to challenge Gordon to a game of volleyball."

"N…n…perhaps this afternoon," his friend replied, still focused. "Thanks anyway."

Alan sighed and straightened. "Well, if you're sure."

Fermat nodded.

Disappointed, Alan went back to his room to change into a pair of swim shorts and grab a towel. Upon going downstairs, he saw that Virgil was awake and sitting at the kitchen bench, talking with Onaha.

Virgil shot him a smile. "Morning, kiddo!"

Alan looked at his watch. "8:55? That's got to be a record, Virg."

Virgil laughed. "Alright, I've had enough from Gordon already."

"I take it he's managed to avoid the green monster?"

Virgil laughed again. "If you're referring to Scott, then yeah. Gordon's been lucky so far."

Alan looked around. "Where is he?"

"Gordon?" Virgil raised his eyebrows. "He's in the pool. I think he believes being in the pool now erases any chance of Scott throwing him in it later."

Alan smiled, going outside to find that Virgil was right. Gordon was treading water, grinning at Scott, who had positioned himself on a lounger between the pool and the entrance to the house. It was stake-out.

_This isn't healthy_, Alan mused. He dumped his towel and grabbed the volleyball. "Why don't we settle this with a game?" he proposed.

"Love to, sprout," Gordon smiled, holding out his hands to catch the ball Alan threw. "That's if princess here can handle getting his toes wet."

He lobbed the ball at Scott, who caught it without flinching. Alan noticed that Scott's hair and neck were tinged green. "That is a good suggestion in theory," Scott replied. "But we don't have even numbers."

Alan craned his head towards the house. "Virg!" he called.

"Yeah, I heard!" came the reply. Virgil trudged out, pulling off his shirt.

Scott and Alan erected the volleyball net.

Gordon examined Virgil grudgingly. "Have you waited an hour after eating?" he asked suspiciously.

Virgil ignored him, stepping into the pool and dunking himself. Scott and Alan unceremoniously jumped in. Scott swam to Virgil's side, holding the ball.

"Ready?" he asked, preparing his fist.

"Why do I get the feeling we've been dragged into the snake pit?" Virgil asked Alan as Scott pelted the ball at Gordon.

An hour later, Scott's serving arm hadn't tired and Gordon was beginning to show signs of defeat.

"Scott, maybe you should take a break. Sure your old bones aren't weary by now?" he moaned.

Virgil chuckled. Poking those kinds of jokes meant that the swimmer knew he was doomed. And Virgil didn't blame him. Nobody could match Scott's serve.

And Scott knew it. "Don't worry, Gordo," he grinned. "Afterwards we can go and get you an ice-cream."

Gordon scowled. He served the ball over the net. Scott sent it flying back with his fist. It headed to Alan's side. The teen jumped to the side of the pool to intercept it, at the same time Gordon leapt to the same spot.

"Got it!" they both yelled.

Gordon's hand sent the ball back over, but on the way his elbow caught the side of Alan's head. Alan went down with an "oof!", banging his head against the pool wall as he sunk.

"Alan!" Virgil called as his little brother resurfaced, coughing and holding his head.

He swam under the net and over to Alan. "Hey, you okay?"

Alan nodded, still holding his head where it had struck the wall. He turned and climbed out of the pool, muttering, "I'm fine."

Scott clipped the back of Gordon's head as Alan grabbed his towel and disappeared into the house. "Nice work!"

"It was accident!" Gordon defended. "If you hadn't hit it so hard…"

Virgil left them to their bickering and climbed out, grabbing his own towel and heading up to Alan's room, where the teenager had no doubt retreated.

He knocked on the door, securing his towel around his hips. When he received no reply, he walked in, only to see an empty room.

He found Alan in the bathroom, holding his towel to his head.

Alan's eyes flicked towards him, but he didn't move.

"It's fine," he assured, his voice a little shaky. "Just caught me by surprise, that's all."

Despite his brother's assurance, Virgil held out his hand for the towel. Alan grudgingly obliged, revealing a bloody cut on his left temple.

Alan leant back against the vanity. "It looks worse than it is," he rambled. "It's just messy. You know how superficial head wounds can be."

Virgil discarded the towel and held up his hands. "Alan," he said, snapping his brother out of it. "Take it easy. I'm not going to bite," he chuckled.

Alan let out a harsh breath and seemed to settle a bit.

_Probably suffering a bit of shock_, Virgil mused as he examined the wound.

Alan tensed unconsciously under his brother's probing fingers. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with Virgil touching him. But it was sometimes hard not to feel stupid when you were your brother's patient.

"No need for stitches," Virgil told him. "I'll get you a cold pack. You settle yourself down somewhere and take it easy."

Alan nodded as his brother held up two fingers.

"How many? Virgil asked.

Alan squinted, keeping a straight face. "I think…twenty nine!"

Virgil smiled and gave him a poke as he left.

Alan went back into his room for some fresh clothes. _Sometimes being the patient _can_ be fun._


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the confusion everyone and thanks for letting me know the chapter had disappeared! It appears we have a mystery on our hands...

Enjoy!

Boann x

**Chapter 2**

The rest of the day was very uneventful. Alan spent his time on the couch watching TV. His head throbbed dully, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Scott had taken a few minutes to fuss over him and savour the sight of Gordon offering an apology. After a few video games, his brothers had left him in peace.

It was about three in the afternoon when Fermat finally emerged from his room…in his pajamas. Alan sat up on the couch to see his friend helped himself to a glass of milk in the kitchen and start to head back upstairs.

"Fermat," Alan had to ask. "What are you doing?"

"Hey, Alan," his friend smiled, joining him on the couch. "I didn't s…s…notice you were there."

"Why are in your pajamas?" Alan asked, the corners of his mouth twitching at the obscurity of his friend's appearance.

"Remember when I s…s…told you that the spider is more active at night?"

Alan nodded.

"Well, by going to b…b…sleep now I can w…w…get up at midnight and c…c…assess the spider's condition," he explained.

Alan held a hand to his brow. "Fermat, you have _got_ to stop working on this spider!" he groaned. "It's summer!"

"Ex…ex…precisely!" Fermat stuttered. "I only have a few weeks to f…f…complete my study and present it to Gr…gr…"

"I know how important that scholarship is to you," Alan gently interrupted. "But you can't spend the entire summer cooped up in your room. It's not healthy. Why do you need to get the scholarship anyway? Your dad could-"

It was Fermat's turn to interrupt. "No, Alan. I want to d...d…accomplish this on my own. I don't want my d..d…father to pay for this education. I thought you would understand."

Fermat got up and walked away, looking hurt.

Alan got to his feet, intent on following him. His plan failed when the room suddenly started spinning. He stumbled and lurched forward, grabbing the coffee table.

Jeff had been coming to check on his youngest when he'd seen Alan fall. "Whoa, kiddo!" He rushed to Alan's side and steadied him, sitting him back down. "Did you get up too fast?"

Alan exhaled as the room righted itself. His temple had started to throb again. "Guess so," he replied. "I was trying to catch Fermat. He's been working on this science project to get into-"

"Greenburg," Jeff finished, sitting next to his son. "Brains has been telling me about it. Apparently it's all Fermat has talked about since coming home."

"No kidding," Alan hung his head dismally. "I know how much he wants to go, but it's been nearly a week since the summer started and we haven't done _anything_ together. He's intent on winning the scholarship so that he can prove he doesn't need his dad's money to get in."

Jeff inclined his head. "Sounds very familiar, don't you think?"

Alan smiled and nodded. He cringed when his head throbbed again.

Jeff examined his son carefully. "I thought you told Virgil you didn't have a headache."

"He told you, huh?"

Jeff nodded. "He came and told me about the accident. I've only just finished my conference call with Tracy Enterprises. I thought I'd check on you."

"I'm fine," Alan told him, throwing him a smile. "Just got up too fast. I'd better find Fermat and apologise."

Jeff knew better than to believe Alan, but he let it go. If something was wrong, one of his mother hens would notice quickly.

"Okay, I'd better get back to work. You know where to find me," he said, patting his son's leg and getting up.

As soon as his dad had left, Alan let his smile fall. His head was hurting. The pain had moved from the left and now encompassed both sides.

_Maybe I should take some Tylenol_. He got up carefully. _Second thought. The Tylenol's in the infirmary._

If he wanted some he would have to ask Virgil for the key to the medicine cabinet, and that would open a whole new can of worms. It appeared he would have to rely on Plan B – hide before anyone notices and ride it out.

He trudged upstairs and into his room, closing the door behind him.

_Maybe if I just take it easy, it'll go away_, he thought, sitting on his bed. Propping himself on his pillows, he grabbed a remote from his bedside table and switched on the TV that was mounted on the opposite wall.

It only took a few minutes for him to give up. He couldn't concentrate on anything he was watching. The pictures were a fuzzy mess and the voices were too loud. The pain was getting worse, quicker than anything that was normal. He switched off the TV and flicked another button to close his blinds. He buried his head into the pillows, hoping they would offer respite. No such luck. The throb was now a burn.

_This isn't normal. Maybe I should see Virgil_. Alan screwed up his face. But moving to go and find his brother seemed impossible. He could only curl up in on himself, his entire body tensing. He let out a whimper as the pain got worse and worse until tears were running down his face.

_What's happening?_ He bit his pillow to muffle his sobs as another flare sent him into oblivion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gordon perused the halls, his stomach rumbling.

_A little joke and all of a sudden I'm the nanny?_

Downstairs, Onaha was serving a delicious pasta dish. Everyone was tucking in, except Gordon. Oh _no_! He'd been denied food and sent to find a certain illusive little brother, who had failed to come down for dinner. After searching in the lounge and finding nothing, Gordon had headed upstairs to Alan's room.

The door was closed.

_Bingo!_ Gordon rapped on the door. "Candygram!" he loudly announced.

When he received no reply, he opened the door and poked his head inside. That's when things started to look strange. The blinds were closed, enveloping the room in darkness. Everything was quiet. The one he was searching for was curled up on the bed, head only half visible amongst the pillows.

"Alan?"

Alan didn't move. Gordon walked in and sidled up next to the bed, giving his brother a gentle shake. He fought away unwanted thoughts. _Is it his head? I didn't hit him that hard, did I?_

He gave another, firmer shake. "Alan."

Alan woke to the movement, clenching his eyes shut against the pain that still attacked his head. He gave a small moan, not opening his eyes. "'M sleeping."

"Yeah, I noticed that. It's only half past five," Gordon pointed out, checking his watch with a frown.

_Need an excuse_, Alan groggily thought. Amazingly, through the pain and the unusual lethargy, he had an idea. "F'mat's project," he mumbled. He was asleep again before Gordon could ask anymore questions.

Gordon sighed in bemusement, carefully pulling a blanket over his brother before heading downstairs to report.

"Alan's in bed."

The response was instantaneous.

Scott dropped his fork. "Why is he sleeping?"

Jeff looked up. "Is he alright?"

Virgil started to rise. "What seems to be the problem?"

Gordon shrugged as he sat. "I don't know. But he was out of it. He mentioned something about Fermat's project."

Jeff sighed. "Sit down, Virgil. I think he's okay."

"What do you mean?" asked Scott.

"I bumped into Fermat on my way back to the office after talking with Alan. Fermat was in his pajamas getting ready to go to bed at three in the afternoon," Jeff explained with a smile. "He said he was crashing earlier so that he could get up just after midnight and study a nocturnal insect for his Greenburg entry. He and Alan had a bit of a misunderstanding. I guess as a way of apology Alan agreed to help him with his assignment."

John frowned thoughtfully, twirling his fork in his pasta. _However odd it is that Alan would contribute to something he's been complaining about the last few days, it isn't surprising that he'd want to help his friend. Best leave him to it._

Luckily, the others accepted the explanation too.

_I'll keep an ear out tonight though_, he decided. _Just in case_.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Alan awoke, it was dark. Or at least, he hoped it was dark and that nothing was wrong with his eyes. Everything was a little fuzzy and it took him a few minutes to realise where he was and what had happened. He brought a hand to his head. It still hurt, but it was nothing compared to before.

_I guess the fact that I'm awake means nothing serious happened_, he thought, carefully easing himself up on his elbow.

His clock flashed 1:04am. Groaning, Alan reached out for his lamp, but his unsteady arm accidentally knocked it over. The lamp tumbled onto the floor, the bulb breaking. Alan cringed as the noise made his head throb again. For a while, he considered leaving the mess and going back to sleep. But then his door opened and a dark figure walked into his room.

"Alan?" John whispered. "You awake?"

_No point denying it._ "Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"Just knocked my lamp over. I'm fine," Alan mumbled.

John walked over to the light switch near the door. "Close your eyes," he instructed, before he turned the light on. Alan squinted up at him, hair askew. His blanket was tangled around his middle and his lamp lay on the floor.

_Guess I was right to keep an ear out,_ John mused.

He walked over and picked up the lamp, replacing it on the bedside table. "You sleeping okay, sprout?" he asked softly, carefully picking up the shattered remains of the bulb with two fingers and disposing of them in the bin near Alan's bed.

Alan carefully lay himself back down. "I'm okay."

He obviously failed to hide his wince as his head throbbed, because John frowned and sat down on the bed. "What's wrong?"

Alan exhaled, closing his eyes. "Stupid headache."

John's cool hand brushed his hair back and rested on his forehead. It was very soothing. "You're hot," his brother said. "Are you feeling sick?"

Alan shook his head, then winced as his head protested.

John's brow furrowed again. "Let me get you something for the headache. Does it feel like a migraine?"

Alan opened his eyes. _That's it! It's a migraine. How could I have forgotten_?

It had been months since his last migraine. He, Scott, and John all got them; courtesy of some badly inherited genes from their mother. He hadn't had one that bad before, but it was only explanation. _Maybe the bump set one off._

"Yeah," he murmured, settling down again.

The mattress shifted as John left. Alan let himself drift to sleep again.

John strode down the hall into the infirmary, accessing the drug cabinet with his code and grabbing the medication. He returned to Alan's room to find his little brother asleep. He grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and sat down on Alan's bed.

John roused Alan by gently rubbing his arm. He knew from experience that shaking him awake would aggravate the migraine. Alan's cerulean eyes opened, but appeared unfocused.

John frowned. _Man, he's really out of it._

"Here," he murmured, holding out the water and two turquoise pills.

Alan hesitated. "What if we have a rescue? I can't come if I'm knocked out."

John smiled, helping him sit up. "You're can't come in this state anyway, sprout."

_Good point_. Alan swallowed the pills.

John took the glass and set it down on his bedside table. "Come on," he said, pulling Alan up. "Let's get you into some pajamas, huh?"

Alan frowned in confusion, then remembered he'd fallen asleep in his denim shorts and a button-down shirt. He felt as limp as a doll as John removed his shorts and helped him into a t-shirt. Finally John pulled back the covers of his bed and allowed him to sink back into the pillows.

John felt his brother's forehead again, content that the warmth of the skin was a symptom of the migraine. He sighed as he watched Alan fall asleep. _Fermat's project, my arse_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone!**

**Thankyou so much for all of your warm "welcome back"'s and encouragement. I'm glad your enjoying the story so far. Don't worry, there's still plenty more drama, angst and Alan-related incidents to come...starting now!**

**Boann x**

**Chapter 3**

Gordon catapulted himself into the pool with a "Yee-hah!".

The water was as it always was – fresh and crisply cool. It was just enough to ward off the heat of the morning sun. Gordon touched the bottom and swam the entire length of the pool, taking time to savour the water. He resurfaced at the end, wiping water from his eyes with one hand.

"Gordon," Scott moaned from the hammock. The oldest Tracy flicked water from his magazine, looking unimpressed. "Remember what I said about personal space?"

Gordon gave his best imitation of a thoughtful expression. "Vaguely."

John, who was sitting on a sun lounger next to the pool, had wisely hidden his book under his towel the moment Gordon had begun his jump. He reopened it with a sigh. "I'm not going to have to spend the entire summer keeping the peace between you two, am I?"

Gordon swam over to the side nearer John, leaning on his folded arms over the edge. "John, we are mature adults, we can resolve this dispute by ourselves."

"I'm not even going to comment on that," John shook his head, returning to his book.

"Hey, sprout!" Gordon's jovial call caused John to lift his head.

Alan had emerged from the house, looking tired, but otherwise okay. He perched himself on the lounger next to John's, offering Gordon a smile. "Morning."

"You're up a little late, aren't you?" Scott commented as he got up and strode across the deck, pulling Alan into a one-armed hug.

"I'm fine," Alan assured.

Scott frowned at the foreboding words, looking down to examine his little brother. There were definitely dark circles under Alan's eyes and his reactions seemed a little sedated.

"You okay?" asked Scott, kneeling down on one knee to bring himself to Alan's level.

Alan offered him a "You're weirding me out" look. "Yeah."

Scott rose with a nod, disappearing into the house. John looked around. Scott had gone. Gordon had started doing laps, oblivious to the situation.

Satisfied, John put down his book and turned to Alan, who was hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees with his head down. "How's the head, sprout?" John asked sympathetically.

Alan sighed, raising his head. "It's fine."

John felt Alan's forehead with the back of his hand. "Have you had breakfast?"

Alan avoided his eyes, staring at the floor. "Wasn't hungry."

John didn't know whether to be thrilled that Alan was being honest or disturbed at his little brother's obvious exhaustion. "Maybe you should go back to bed," he gently suggested.

Alan lay back in the sun lounger, trying to look normal. He felt weak and weary. The headache was gone, but a new nausea had taken its place. For the first time, Onaha's breakfast was not appealing.

"I'm fine," he repeated, hoping John would drop it. If he went to bed, the others would know something was wrong. Alan was uncomfortable enough with John knowing, let alone the whole flock of mother hens.

John took the hint, returning to his book without another word. Alan appreciated his brother not sighing or making a gesture to imply his disappointment.

Virgil walked outside, eating a piece of toast and carrying a glass of orange juice. "Hey, it's the blondes!" he smiled.

John pulled his legs up so Virgil could perch on the end of the lounger. "Well, if it isn't sleeping beauty. Finished hibernation?"

Virgil couldn't immediately reply with a mouthful of food. He turned his attention to Alan, who was staring off into space. "I'm surprised to see you up," he said. "How did the studying go?"

Alan, who'd only caught the last few words of his brother's question, blinked. "Huh?"

"Fermat's project," Virgil clarified. "Dad said you'd gone to bed early last night so that you could help Fermat study his spider."

"Oh, yeah," Alan replied, dumbly. "It was good."

Virgil saw a familiar red flag go up. Alan looked exhausted, sounded exhausted, and had all the symptoms of someone who'd just run into a brick wall. He handed Alan his juice. "Here," he said. "Drink that, then go and have a lie down."

Alan took the glass and pulled himself off the lounger. Virgil watched his brother as he left.

"Stop it."

Virgil looked at John, taken aback by the instruction. "What?"

"I know that look," John smiled. "Don't worry Virgil, he's fine. He's just tired."

Virgil nodded. "If you say so. But it's not _him_ I came to check on."

John gave him a quizzical look.

"Before breakfast I went to check through our drug supply and make sure nothing needed ordering. It was then I noticed the drug cabinet had been accessed." Virgil raised an eyebrow. "By your code."

_Crap_, John cursed. _If he finds out why I got the drugs, Alan's cover will be well and truly blown._

"I had a migraine," John lied. "I got some pain killers during the night."

"How are you feeling?" asked Virgil, his brows knitting together.

"I'm okay. Those drugs really work." John returned to his book, using the distraction to end the conversation. He hated lying to his brothers.

"Okay," said Virgil, slapping him on the calf. "Take it easy today."

"I intend to do nothing else," John replied as Virgil left.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alan collapsed on his bed with a groan. He'd made it, barely. His legs felt like jelly and he felt sick. The symptoms were uncommon with his migraines.

_Great. Summer begins and I get sick. This should brighten Virgil's day._

He knew there was only so long he could keep up the ruse that he'd been with Fermat all night, especially when John knew the truth. So it was important that he gave people no reason to start asking questions.

He closed his eyes and snuggled down, content to miss the rest of the morning. Soon he fell asleep.

_He was standing in a dark room. Well, he thought it was a dark room. All he could see was blackness. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. The vulnerability the darkness seemed to give him was unnerving. He shut his eyes, then opened them again, but the darkness did not go away. He frowned in confusion._

"_Okay, it's just a dream. One of those weird dreams you have when you're not feeling so good," he told himself. He stood there, simply waiting for the dream to end. It was cold. He rubbed his arm to banish the goosebumps that had risen. _

This is a very odd dream_, he thought._

"_Is this a dream, Alan?"_

_Alan froze. The goosebumps returned. He knew that voice._

No, it's not possible_._

"_Anything's possible, Alan."_

_Alan shut his eyes. _Okay, now it's time to wake up. It's not real. He's gone.

_The Hood laughed scornfully. "I am not gone, Alan. Physically, I am imprisoned, but mentally I am stronger than ever."_

No_, Alan bit his lip, trying to control his quickening breathing and racing pulse. _Dad, help me.

"_Are you scared, Alan?"_

_Alan opened his eyes. He saw nobody there. Maybe he had imagined the voice._

_An evil laugh, louder than before, made him jump. _

"_You can deny it all you want, Alan. I am here, with you now. And I will stay here, in your head, waiting for you every time you sleep. I am going to show you what is in my mind, Alan."_

"_Leave me alone," Alan pleaded. _

_He was rewarded with another laugh. "Shall I give you a preview?"_

_Before Alan could respond, the darkness vanished and he was standing on a high cliff overlooking the sea. The wind was strong and cold and he could hear the dark waves crashing against the rocks below. He heard a familiar voice cry out to him._

"_Alan! Help me!" _

_Alan looked around but saw no one there. He looked towards the edge of the cliff, dreading what he might find. Sure enough, when he crept forwards and looked down, he saw Scott, broken and bleeding, hanging on for dear life._

_Scott looked up at him. "Alan! Take my hand! You're the only one who can help me!"_

_If the person below had pleaded or panicked, Alan would have been reassured that it wasn't his brother. But this person was so calm and intense, just like Scott. For some reason, it made him consider the possibility that it really was Scott. _

_Alan threw himself to the ground and held out his hand. His brother was just out of reach. "Come on!" Alan called as Scott grunted with the strain._

"_You have to save me, Alan," Scott told him, sternly. "It's your job."_

"_I know," Alan nodded, ever obedient to his field commander. "I'm trying."_

_His fingers touched Scott's, but then suddenly Scott lost his grip and fell. Scott plunged to the rocks below._

_Alan bellowed his brother's name as he disappeared. Then suddenly everything went black again. Alan was left shaking and panting in the dark._

"_It seemed so real, didn't it?" the Hood commented._

"_It's not real," Alan told himself. _

"_Pretty soon, Alan, you will not know the difference between dreaming and reality."_

Alan woke with a jolt, as if he had fallen from the roof and landed on a hard floor. He looked up to see John sitting on the bed at his side.

"Hey," his brother softly offered.

Alan took a shaky breath in. "Hey," he replied. "What time is it?"

"A little after two," John said. "I came to see how you were. Alone."

Alan nodded, grateful for the discretion. He took a moment before he answered John's question. "Fine," he finally answered. For the first time that day, it was the truth. The nausea had completely disappeared. He felt awake and refreshed, despite the lingering memories of the odd dream. "Better than fine."

John eyed his little brother, searching for any signs of dishonesty. But for the first time he couldn't find any. He smiled, satisfied. "Good. Well in that case, you'd better come downstairs. Onaha's mortified you missed two meals in one day. You hungry?"

"Yeah," Alan smiled, getting up.

As if on cue, the klaxon went off.

"Better settle for muesli bar for now, sprout," John said as they both ran down the hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The so called crisis turned out to be a false alarm. By the time the boys had arrived at the scene, the government services had already gotten things under control. However frustrating these situations could be, the boys were relieved that nobody had been in danger. When they came home, Scott and John retreated to the gym, Virgil disappeared into his room to continue with his latest artistic inspiration, and Gordon returned to the pool.

_The fish is way too predictable_, Alan mused as he trudged through the hallway. Okay, so maybe he was predictable too. After an hour of being at home, he was already bored and heading to Fermat's room. He found his friend in another predictable position; hunched over the glass tank inspecting his pet.

"Hey, Alan," Fermat greeted without looking up.

Alan walked into the room, keeping an eye on the tank in case the retched bug jumped out at him. "Hey. I'm not annoying you, am I?"

"N…n…on the contrary," Fermat stuttered. "You're just in time."

Alan raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "I'm not gonna become one of your experiments, am I?"

Fermat grinned at him. "No. But you can h…h…I could use an extra asset of hands. I need to m…m… reposition the t…t…climate controls. Can you-"

"I am _not_ sticking my hand in there!" Alan backed off, holding up his hands defensively.

"It'll only be for t…t…less than a minute," Fermat reasoned. "I can't reposition the light and configure the settings a…a…simultaneously."

"Can't you reposition the light whilst I play with the controls?"

"The modifications I have to make are very delicate," Fermat explained.

Alan waved a hand nonchalantly, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just help me find the spider before I stick my hand in."

"I already know," Fermat said, picking up a pad to record the changes he was about to make. "It's in its…c…c…it's hiding."

Alan raised an eyebrow in doubt, but carefully removed the lid of the tank.

"I just need you to r…r…take it off and p…p…move it to the left corner," Fermat instructed, fiddling with the instrument's control box.

"Remind me again why the light needs to be moved," Alan grumbled as he followed his friend's direction.

"Not that far!" Fermat cried, making Alan jumped. "The readings are going berserk!"

Alan shook his head at him. "You spend way to much time on schoolwork."

Fermat ignored Alan's grumbling and went back to his readings. "That's it!" he said when the climate settings reached the level he sought. "Hold it there!"

"Okay," Alan replied.

Fermat smiled, satisfied. From that angle, the light should better mimic the rise and fall of the sun. _Hopefully I'll be able to more accurately record the spider's movements during that-_

Fermat looked up to see Alan still holding the light inside the tank.

"Alan, you d…d…there's no need to hold the light. It will s…s…it has an adhesive backing," he said.

Alan cringed. "That's not the reason I've still got my hand in there, Ferm."

Fermat looked up to see the spider crawling over the back of Alan's hand. "Oh," he winced, setting down his notepad. "I didn't expect it to respond so q…q…fast."

"What do you mean 'so fast'?" Alan asked, worriedly. "What do I do?"

"D…d…stay still," Fermat replied, as the spider slowly began to make its way up Alan's wrist. He grabbed a twig out of the bag of fresh vegetation he'd collected that morning and slowly encouraged the spider to go back into its nest.

"Uh, Fermat?" Alan winced. "I don't suppose you've figured out if this guy's poisonous."

Fermat swallowed nervously. "I haven't s…s…reached that level of analysis yet."

Alan nodded stiffly. "Just curious."

Despite Fermat's encouragement, the spider refused to move from its newfound warm perch. It also recognised that its perch was a living creature, and so reacted instinctively.

"Ow!" Alan yelped, wringing his hand. The spider was flung onto the bedroom floor when Alan immediately retracted his arm. It scurried away before either of the boys could follow it.

Fermat discarded the stick. "Are you o…o…let me see."

"Damn it, Fermat!" Alan cursed as the bite stung.

"We'd better g…g…see Virgil," Fermat suggested, not liking what he saw. The area around the two tiny puncture marks was already red and starting to swell.

Alan rolled his eyes. His first reaction was to refuse, but he reconsidered. _It'd be pretty stupid of me to not tell someone that I've been bitten by an unknown species of tropical spider._

"Great," was his sarcastic agreement.

**Don't forget to hit that review button!!! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys!**

**Yes, only Alan could be bitten by the spider that Fermat just happened to have in his room...I am guilty of extreme predictability. But that's not necessarily a bad thing because, as predicted by you all, the following chapter contains plenty of Doctor Virgil, sick Alan, and overprotective Tracys. See - it's not a bad thing!  
**

**In thanks for all of your AMAZING reviews, I have published a 6 page chapter for you!!!!**

**Hope you enjoy! (And if you were to click on the little blue button afterwards, that would be fantastic!)**

**Boann**

**xx  
**

**Chapter 4**

Virgil frowned as he examined the swollen bite. "Tell me again _why_ you had your hand in the tank."

His patient answered with a harsh sigh. "Well it wouldn't be a normal holiday for either of us if I didn't end up in the infirmary for _something_," Alan replied.

_True_, Virgil agreed to himself.

Jeff, who was perched on the bed next to Alan, looked up at the medic. "What do you think, Virgil?"

Virgil released Alan's wrist, shaking his head. "I can't be sure just yet. But going by Fermat's description of the species, and the reaction Alan's having to the bite, I'd say it's very likely we're dealing with some kind of venom."

"But you can fix it, right?" Alan prompted.

Virgil didn't answer his question. "I need to do a blood sample to know for sure what kind of venom has been injected," he said, pulling off his gloves. "Stay put, you," he told Alan. He left towards the storage room.

Alan groaned, resting an elbow on his knee and holding his chin in his good hand.

Jeff chuckled at Alan's miserable expression, rubbing his son's back. "Don't worry, kiddo. We've spent a long time cataloging the animal species found on the island. Odds are we've got something on this spider."

"Fermat couldn't identify it," Alan pointed out gloomily.

"Fermat probably didn't check our catalogue. He said himself he didn't want to rely on anything or anyone to complete this project," Jeff reasoned.

Alan sighed, sitting up again. "Just once I would like to come home and not be attacked by wet floors, heavy objects, spiders, or psychic madmen."

Jeff nodded. Yes, out of all his sons, Alan was definitely the most accident prone. True, Alan was the youngest and so it was natural that he received the most fuss when it came to those kinds of incidents. But trouble had always followed Alan like a lost puppy.

Jeff put an arm around Alan's shoulders. "Don't worry. If it's bad, we'll bring out the bubble-wrap."

That got a smile out of the miserable blonde.

When Alan was four, he'd had a terrible bike accident that had put him in hospital for two weeks. When Alan was back home, Jeff had returned from work one night to discover that Gordon had wrapped his little brother in five yards of bubble-wrap.

"Allie won't hurt his-self now," the freckled redhead had proudly announced.

It had been a family joke every since.

Jeff looked down at Alan when he realised his son was leaning against him. "Alan?" he rubbed the blonde's shoulder.

"Yeah," was Alan's mumbled confirmation that he was still awake.

"You feeling tired, kiddo?" Jeff asked, the space between his eyebrows creasing.

"A little," Alan admitted.

Jeff rubbed his son's shoulder again. "Sit up, son," he instructed.

Alan didn't argue. He sighed wearily.

Jeff was starting to worry about Alan's sudden lethargy. He got up off the bed and stood in front of Alan, examining him concernedly.

Alan looked up at him. "I'm fine, Dad."

"Uh-oh," said Virgil, who reappeared carrying a small dish with large needle in it. "What's wrong?"

Alan didn't follow. "Huh?"

"Whenever you say 'I'm fine', it means that something's wrong," Virgil elaborated, setting the dish down on the bed. Jeff moved over so that Virgil could stand in front of Alan's knees. The medic held two fingers up to Alan's neck, counting his pulse. "Keep talking, kiddo. How do you feel?"

Alan looked up a little blearily. "I'm just tired," he replied quietly.

"Okay," Virgil mused. "Your pulse is bit fast. Do you feel light headed or having trouble breathing?" He grabbed his stethoscope from the table next to the bed.

"Are they symptoms?" Jeff asked.

"Most likely," Virgil replied, slipping the end of the instrument under his brother's shirt. He encouraged Alan with a nod of his head to breathe deeply.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jeff questioned impatiently.

Virgil paused before he answered, listening to Alan's lungs. He removed the stethoscope and hung it around his neck. "At the moment, all we can do is make sure Alan stays calm."

"I'm right here, you know."

"And quiet," Virgil shot his brother a knowing look.

Alan offered him a glare, but it had no real anger behind it.

"The blood sample should tell me more," Virgil concluded.

Jeff nodded.

Virgil produced another pair of disposable gloves. He smiled at the way Alan snuck a glance at the syringe and grimaced. "Dad, why don't you help the search party?" he suggested, jerking his head towards the door. "Another pair of eyes could help us find the spider faster."

Jeff reluctantly nodded, understanding Virgil's request for privacy. "Okay. Let me know if there are any changes. And you," he gently ruffled Alan's hair. "Don't give your brother too much grief."

"Yes sir," Alan replied wearily.

As soon as the doors slid closed behind his father, Virgil looked at Alan. "Come on, kiddo. What say we get things over with?"

Alan didn't reply, but moved obediently so that his back was resting against the raised head of the bed. Virgil pulled on his gloves and proceeded to unwrap the needle from its plastic package. Alan let his arm rest on the side of the bed. His silence unnerved Virgil.

"You okay, sprout?" he asked gently.

"Peachy," was the reply he received. Alan sighed and let his head fall back against the pillow. "Tired," he added. "And kinda strange."

Virgil looked up from what he was doing. "How do you mean strange?" he asked, attaching a tourniquet to Alan's arm.

"Just weird," Alan replied.

Virgil frowned. "Okay, just relax," he encouraged. "Hold still."

He inserted the needle into the crook of Alan's arm. Alan hissed and jolted. Virgil automatically grabbed Alan's upper arm with his free hand to steady him. "You okay?" he looked up at his brother.

"Sorry," Alan mumbled. "My arm's a little sore."

Virgil nodded. The arm he'd chosen to take a blood sample from had been the same one as the hand that had been bitten. "Okay. Just try and stay still until I finish and let me know if it gets worse."

Alan nodded, a little embarrassed. He watched Virgil work with glazed eyes. His stomach churned a little as he watched his own blood fill the syringe. _Funny_, he thought. _I'm usually okay with this sort of stuff. Unless…_

His stomach churned again. _Oh crap!_

He took in deep breaths through his nose, hoping to banish the nausea. Upon hearing this, Virgil looked up from what he was doing. "What's wrong, Alan?" he asked, quickly removing the needle and placing it in the dish.

Alan shook his head wordlessly, trying to calm his stomach_. It's bad enough I'm in here again. I'm not going to embarrass myself even more. _

His stomach had other ideas. He leaned forward, closing his eyes and clamping his mouth shut.

Virgil identified the problem immediately. He grabbed another bowl and held in front of Alan. "Better out than in, kiddo," he said softly, placing a hand on Alan's back.

As soon as Virgil's hand touched him, Alan retched. He tried to stop it from coming up by closing his mouth, but only succeeded in choking and initiating another spasm. He coughed as he puked miserably. Virgil's hand rubbed his back.

"Easy, sprout. Don't fight it. Just get it out," Virgil soothed.

However much Virgil's words reassured him, they did not help his misery.

_This sucks_, he thought as he vomited again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"This sucks," Gordon groaned as he checked under the couch in his father's office.

"Tell that to Alan," Scott said from where he was looking behind a cabinet.

Gordon had to agree. Stuck in the infirmary with Virgil and Dad would totally suck.

He pulled himself to his feet in time to see Jeff striding purposefully into the office.

"Any luck?" their father asked.

Gordon shook his head. "This spider doesn't want to be found. John and Fermat are checking the bedrooms. Onaha and Kirano are checking the living areas. We've checked the gym and now here. No sign of it yet."

"How's Alan?" asked Scott.

"Virgil's doing a blood sample, but no serious symptoms have shown up yet," Jeff told them.

Scott's ears pricked up like a dog hearing the word "walk". "No _serious_ symptoms?"

Jeff nodded. "He's showing signs of tiredness and his pulse is up a little," he elaborated.

Scott sighed, his shoulders tensing with worry. "So he _is_ having a reaction."

"Without blood work we can't be sure. Let's just focus on finding the eight-legged culprit," Jeff calmed his eldest. "Has anyone checked our database for a species similar to what Fermat's described?"

"John did that, but he didn't find anything, even with Fermat's help," Gordon replied. "We need the spider to carry out an accurate examination."

"Well, it's got to be somewhere," Jeff said determinedly. "We can't help Alan by standing around."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_Urgh!_ was all Alan could think as he lay curled up on his side. A fresh bowl lay ready in front of him. The smell of disinfectant did nothing to abate his nausea. Cramps occasionally shot through his emptied stomach. After Alan's vomiting had finally ceased, Virgil had left to analyse the blood sample, leaving Alan alone to feel sorry for himself.

Alan closed his eyes, trying to relax. He could feel his heart pattering away in his chest. He felt both hot and cold at the same time. _How is that even possible?_ he thought miserably.

He opened his eyes when something cold and wet was pressed against his forehead. He looked up to see Virgil holding a cloth to his head, looking at him sympathetically.

Alan shifted, intent on asking Virgil how the analysis was going, but his brother stilled him.

"Shhh, take it easy," Virgil soothed.

"What's happening?" Alan groaned.

"The results are going to be another fifteen minutes or so," Virgil explained.

Alan let out a disappointed grunt.

Virgil smiled. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

Alan didn't have the energy to tell Virgil he didn't blame him. He let his eyelids droop as he stared into nothingness. Occasionally Virgil held the cloth to the side of his neck, but he didn't speak.

"Do you still think about it?"

Virgil looked at him, and Alan realised that he had asked his question out loud.

"Think about what?" asked Virgil.

"Spring break."

Alan lifted his head up a little to see Virgil's eyes downcast.

"Yeah," his older brother admitted.

"Do you dream about it?"

Virgil shifted. He had no doubt that Alan had chosen the subject out of delirium, but it still made him uncomfortable. "Sometimes," he murmured, pressing the wet cloth to his brother's forehead.

Alan blinked lazily. "I do," he revealed.

He was aware of Virgil's eyes on him even as he stared at the floor by the bed. "I see him so clearly. When he speaks it's like he's inside my head. He keeps saying he wants to make me suffer. He's going to…"

Alan swallowed the lump in his throat.

Virgil gently rubbed his arm. "He's not going to do anything," he murmured gently. "We're not going to let him. They're just dreams, Alan. You don't need to worry about him anymore."

For once, Virgil's words gave Alan no reassurance. Alan allowed himself to fall asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Got him!" John cried triumphantly.

He got up off his hand and knees and pointed behind the bookcase in Virgil's room. The spider was clinging to the wall, safely snuggled in the gap created by the skirting board. Fermat was at John's side with the plastic container they'd grabbed from the kitchen.

"I'll g…g…retrieve him," the young genius offered.

"Okay," John replied, grabbing a paintbrush off Virgil's easel and positioning himself on the other side of the book case. "I'll coax him towards you." Carefully he nudged the spider towards Fermat. The spider was obviously a clever species, because it stopped before it reached the container.

"Drat," John cursed, unable to reach the spider anymore.

"It's okay," Fermat assured him. "I can get it with my hand."

John frowned. "Fermat I don't think that's a good idea. It's already bitten somebody. We don't need you with Alan in the infirmary."

"I know how to handle it," Fermat explained. "I've been studying it ever since school f…f…let out."

John was skeptical, but nodded. "Okay, but be careful."

Confidently, but gently, Fermat eased his small hand behind the book case towards the spider. The spider reached out with two forelegs to carefully inspect the object approaching him, before deciding that it was safe enough to climb onto Fermat's hand.

"See?" the boy smiled as he straightened. "No problem – ow!"

John jumped to Fermat's side. "You alright?"

Fermat had managed to get the spider contained, but now bore two red puncture marks on his palm.

"Let's get Virgil to take a look at you," John said, steering the boy towards the door.

They'd gotten halfway when Fermat suddenly collapsed.

"Fermat!" John cried, catching his friend before he could hit the floor. He raised his wrist, activating his watch. "Virgil! Get to your room, quickly! Fermat's been bitten and he's just collapsed."

"I'm on my way," was Virgil's reply.

"Fermat?" John called. The boy was white as a sheet and shivering.

"J…J…" he stuttered.

John hushed him. "You'll be okay."

Virgil rushed in at that moment, his dark eyebrows knitting into a deep frown when he saw Fermat's condition. He promptly took the boy's pulse. "Tell me how you feel, Fermat," he encouraged sternly.

"C…c…freezing," Fermat replied.

"His pulse is racing," Virgil reported. "It appears he's reacting to the venom more strongly than Alan. Let's get him to the infirmary."

Just as they moved to shift Fermat, the boy's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he started convulsing. Virgil quickly steadied him.

"What do we do?" asked John.

"Until I know how the venom's working or what species I'm dealing with, I can't treat him," Virgil said.

John looked at him disbelievingly. "There's got to be something we can do!"

They both looked down when Fermat suddenly stilled.

Virgil quickly took his pulse.

John shook Fermat's shoulder. "Come on, Fermat. Wake up."

Virgil looked up at him, swallowing. "John, he's not waking up," he said mournfully.

"What do you mean?"

"I've lost his pulse," Virgil slowly replied.

"What? No! He can't of just…" John couldn't say it. He could feel his eyes watering.

"John, there's nothing I can do," Virgil said, as if at the same time he was walking barefoot on broken glass. "He's gone."

There was silence.

John stroked Fermat's cold cheek. The boy looked so small. "What are we going to tell Brains?"

Alan lurched awake, gasping for air. He felt like he was drowning. His insides were imploding. His whole body shook ferociously and everything was so hot.

Somewhere to his right, he heard a familiar voice. But it was too dark for him to see the person it belonged to. "Alan? Hey! Calm down. It's okay!"

"Wha…" Alan could barely manage. He'd seen it. He'd seen it all. He didn't care how he'd seen it or what it meant, but he'd seen it nonetheless. _Fermat! Oh my God! I have to help him! _

He went to move off his bed_. Bed? Why am I in a bed? This isn't my bed! This is all wrong! I have to get to Fermat! _

"Alan! Stop struggling. It's okay," said the familiar voice. It was accompanied by pair of hands, which fastened themselves around his shoulders.

"No!" Alan tried to wriggle away. "You don't understand!" His voice was so hoarse, as if he'd been screaming for hours. He couldn't even finish the end of his sentence without his voice giving out.

He looked up to ascertain who exactly was preventing him from going to save his best friend. Virgil's scowling face hovered above him, as if it was suspended in the air without a body. Alan looked away to better focus, throwing up his arms to dislodge the firm hands restraining him.

"Fermat!" he yelled, hoping that somehow his friend would hear him and…do something….

Alan was too confused to make sense of anything, and he didn't really care. Only one thing mattered. He continued to fight, but the person holding him was too strong. Something was pressing against his chest now too, forcing him against the mattress. "No!" Alan cried, as another pair of hands grabbed his left leg and held it down.

"Alan!" Wake up!" a new voice sternly ordered.

_I am awake!_ Alan wanted to protest. _I saw…_He stopped. _I'm awake now. But I'm in a bed and…was I awake before?_

"_**It's okay, Alan. It all vanishes…like a dream."**_

Alan grunted as the Hood's voice sent what felt like a hot iron through his temples. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, both the voice and the pain were gone. He was left in a bed in the infirmary panting and trembling. He looked up, seeing things clearly for the first time. Virgil stood at his right, holding his shoulders and using his forearms to hold down his chest. To his left stood his father.

Jeff stroked his hair back from his sweaty forehead. "You with us, kiddo?" he asked sternly, his brow furrowed with worry.

Alan couldn't speak. His eyes darted around the infirmary. The darkness indicated that it was nighttime. His bed was illuminated by a single light on the ceiling above it. Alan squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed thickly against the bile that threatened to rise. His stomach churned. Realising how tired he was, he relaxed in his brother's grip.

Virgil slowly released him, looking at him worriedly. "Just breathe, Alan," he gently instructed.

Alan was only too happy to oblige. Breathing was all that he could manage at the moment.

Jeff continued to stroke his hair. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Alan couldn't remember when he'd ever seen his father so worried. The astronaut looked like he had seen the Ghost of Christmas Past.

"Dad?" Alan whimpered.

Jeff held his cheek. "It's okay, son. I'm here. Just relax."

Relax? Alan heart was still launching itself against his ribs like an enraged animal trying to get out of its cage. For the first time, Alan heard a beeping that matched the rhythm of his heart. He looked upwards to see that the vitals monitor on the wall behind him had been activated.

_Why did I need that?_ He wondered, exhaustedly.

He gave his brother a questioning look. Virgil nodded his understanding. "You've been unconscious for a few hours now. Shortly after you passed out, John and Fermat found the spider. We were able to identify it and give you the anti-venom."

"Fermat!" Alan couldn't help but exclaim.

He struggled to push himself up on his elbows.

"Whoa, Alan! Slow down, son. Just relax." Jeff sternly told him.

"Where's Fermat?" Alan asked, again ignoring the instruction.

"It's pretty late, Alan, He's probably in bed asleep," Virgil replied, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder to still him.

"What's wrong, Alan?" Jeff asked, noticing the way Alan's eyes were darting around fearfully.

Alan looked up at his father imploringly. "But he's okay, right? Is he okay?"

New lines appeared on Jeff's brow. "He's fine, Alan. Why wouldn't he be?"

"You're sure?" Alan pressed. "You're sure he's fine?"

Jeff nodded. "Lie down," he hushed.

Alan obeyed, somewhat comforted and disturbed by his father's assurance. _It was so real. I saw it. How could it have been a dream?_

"Why would you think something's wrong with Fermat?" Virgil gently asked him.

_I can't tell them_, Alan realised. _They can't know. Even if, by some remarkable chance, they don't think I'm a nut job, they couldn't help._

"It's nothing," he quietly replied, avoiding Virgil's chestnut eyes.

"Well whatever it was, you certainly weren't enjoying it," Virgil told him, one eyebrow raised. "You were thrashing for at least fifteen minutes and when I finally managed to wake you, you went berserk."

Alan stayed silent. It was the best way to avoid telling the truth.

Jeff put a hand on Alan's arm. "Is it possible the effects of the venom could lead to hallucinations?" he asked Virgil.

"If that were the case, the hallucinations should have appeared before I administered the anti-venom, not after," Virgil replied.

Alan felt dread mix with the bile creeping up his throat. _Please, just think it was a result of the spider bite_, he silently begged them.

His prayers were answered. "But I guess anything's possible," Virgil added. "Everyone reacts differently to these things."

Alan felt a familiar prickling sensation up his nose that often signaled oncoming tears. _I have to get out of here. I can't risk them asking more questions. _"Can I go now?" he asked quietly.

Both his father and brother looked at him with a mixture of worry and fondness.

"Sorry, sprout," Virgil shook his head. "Let's wait until tomorrow, huh?"

With no hope of escaping to his room, Alan could only turn his head away and hide his building tears in his pillow. "I'm tired," he offered as an excuse.

His father rubbed his arm comfortingly. "Okay," he murmured. "Do want me to stay?"

Alan shook his head, knowing his voice would tremble if he answered and would give him away. Jeff kissed him on the side of the head, which only encouraged the feelings of despair and fear that were threatening to rip him open. The teenager remained unresponsive as his father left. He could sense Virgil still hovering, but kept his eyes closed.

Virgil was not dissuaded. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" his brother murmured gently.

Alan shook his head, squeezing his eyes tightly to stop the tears from escaping. He couldn't, however, stop his breath from hitching.

Virgil must have caught him. "Hey," he murmured sympathetically, rubbing Alan's arm. "What is it? You can tell me."

_Not this time_, Alan wanted to say. "I'm just tired," he replied.

Despite the silence that followed, Alan could hear Virgil debating with himself whether or not to push the matter. Mercifully, after a while, Virgil pulled a blanket over him and turned out the light over his bed. For once, Alan was thankful for the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone!!!**

**Thank you so much for all of your awesome reviews! I'm glad the extra long chapter went down well. A BIG thank you to Shadowfox8 for pointing out the typo (whoops!). I was a little worried about disregarding the _dream font_ for Alan's nightmare, but it seemed to work okay. For those who are already creeped out - beware!**

**Please review! They inspire me to update faster *nudge, wink* :)**

**Boann **

**xx  
**

**Chapter 5**

"Something really weird is going on."

Jeff looked up from his newspaper at the breakfast table. He had been recounting to the rest of the family the events of last night. The whole thing had worried Jeff. Despite the possibility that Alan's apparent hallucinations and stress had been a reaction to the spider bite or his high fever, Jeff felt that something was amiss.

And apparently he wasn't the only one.

Gordon looked up at his father, a scowl on his face. "Something isn't right," he said.

"What do you think is the problem?" Jeff asked, leaning on the table.

Gordon gestured to his bowl of cereal. "There's no sugar on this."

Jeff bit back a groan. Sighing, he returned to his paper, only to look up immediately when he saw Virgil coming back from the infirmary.

"How is he?" Jeff asked.

Virgil sat down at the table, helping himself to some eggs. "It looks like a good night's sleep has helped," he replied. "His vitals are normal. His temp's back down. He's eating breakfast. I've cleared him for duty."

Jeff nodded. If Virgil believed Alan was fine, then that was most likely the case. "Did he say anything about the hallucinations?"

Virgil shook his head. "He asked after Fermat again, though."

"I wonder why he was so worried about Fermat," Gordon mused.

"Hallucinations can make you believe anything," Virgil told him. "Maybe he saw something happening to Fermat."

"Has Fermat gone to see Alan?" asked Scott. "It might reassure him a bit."

"Fermat popped in while I was examining the sprout," Virgil replied with a mouthful. "They were still chatting when I left."

"Good," Jeff nodded.

They were interrupted by the klaxon.

"Up and at 'em, boys," Jeff announced, rising from his seat. "Someone needs our help."

"Can they at least wait until I've finished my breakfast?" Gordon moaned.

* * *

Eight hours later, Virgil collapsed into the pilot's chair. He knew he looked a mess, but he was too tired to care. He looked no better than Alan or Gordon who, like him, were covered from head to toe in soot.

"I think we need to send out a media statement," huffed Gordon as he sunk into the copilot's seat. "A message from your friendly neighbourhood Thunderbirds; gas is flammable!"

"They were just kids," Virgil sighed, removing his gloves to scratch his head.

Gordon grumbled. "Huh. Well the little darlings almost destroyed a twenty story building. If we hadn't gotten to the people trapped in the stairwell in time…"

"Gordon," Virgil moaned, scrubbing his face with both hands. Satisfied that Gordon had taken the "not now" hint, he began entering the launch codes on the control panel.

Gordon sighed again, looking over at his little brother in the other copilot's chair. Alan had done well, apparently unaffected by the events of the previous night. "You good, sprout?"

Alan threw him a tired smile. "Yeah, man. Just thinking about dinner."

Gordon let out a pained groan. "Don't mention food! I could eat Thunderbird 5!"

The other two laughed.

"Thunderbird 1 and Base from Thunderbird 2. We are ready for launch," Virgil reported.

"FAB. Fermat and I are already heading across the pacific. We'll see you at home," replied Scott.

"How come Fermat got shotgun in Thunderbird 1?" Gordon hissed to Alan, who shrugged.

"Good work, all of you," Jeff commended. "Better get home quick. Onaha's chilli smells pretty good."

"What a cruel man you are," Gordon jibed, earning a laugh from his father.

"See you soon," Jeff chuckled.

"You know," Gordon stretched his sore legs. _Stairs are a bitch_. _Buildings that high should make fire-proof elevators a priority_. "I think Dad could learn a lesson in temptation the hard way. If his coffee suddenly and mysteriously disappeared…"

"We'd all be drilled like military cadets until one of us confessed to committing the crime," Alan finished.

Virgil concurred. "You're playing with fire there, Gordo."

"And you're already covered in too much soot. Best avoid fire altogether," Alan added.

"Have you looked in mirror? The only thing being served for dinner tonight is 'chargrilled Tracy'," Gordon pointed out.

Alan grinned and went back to looking out the window. The banter was comforting. It reassured him that all was right with the world. He had heard no more voices and all symptoms from last night were gone. _It was just a bad dream. Nothing bad is actually going to happen._

The sound of boots on the metal floor brought him back to reality. He turned to see John, looking just as black as the rest of them, walk into the cockpit and sit in the last chair.

"Post-rescue checks have been completed. I've already made a list of what needs to be restocked when we get home," John reported.

"Thanks," Virgil shot a smile over his shoulder.

"Why didn't you just leave the equipment check until we got home, geek?" Gordon questioned.

John offered Gordon a boyish grin, accepting the challenge. "Well, I don't know about you, but when we get home, I intend to eat and I can't do that if I'm stuck in the pod checking extinguishers and breathing apparatus. With everything already checked and noted, I can quickly restock the supply when we land and get to the kitchen faster."

Alan shrugged innocently. "The geek speaks sense, carrot-top."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "What is this? Attack of the blondes?"

John and Alan shared an amused look.

Twenty minutes later, they landed. The race to shower and make it down to the dinner table ended in a close tie between the brothers. Even John managed to finish restocking and make it in time. Scott and Fermat were already at the table, grinning with glee at having first helpings.

Onaha smiled as she watched them tuck in. "Is it good, boys?"

She received several responses of "Iss goo'!" and "Mmm, iss gray On-ha!" She laughed as they grinned at her with their mouths full.

Jeff also cracked a smile. "We'll debrief in my office after dinner," he said, reaching for his glass. "But off the record, how was it?"

"Hot," John replied.

"Smokey," Virgil added.

"Stupid kids," Gordon grumbled.

"Okay," Jeff chuckled.

Once their plates had been scraped clean, the boys went their separate ways. Fermat hurried to his room, no doubt to check that his spider was still in its tank.

Alan noticed Scott and Jeff heading towards the office to prepare for the meeting, deep in serious conversation. _Scott's becoming way to much like Dad._ Alan yawned. _I've got time to lie down for a bit before the debrief_.

He trudged to his room and lay on his bed. His legs ached.

_Running up stairs isn't that easy after the thirteenth flight. At least we got a work out. _

He stretched and yawned again, enjoying the feeling of warm food in his stomach, blinking blearily at the ceiling above…

"_Welcome back, Alan."_

_Alan jumped, sitting up. "No. I'm not asleep. How can you be here?"_

"_Oh but you are asleep. You must be exhausted after that rescue."_

"_How do you know about that?" Alan asked. _

"_I know everything you do, Alan. I'm in your head, remember? I have access to you memories, your dreams, and your fears."_

_The last few words sent goosebumps up Alan's arms. "This is just some stupid phase I'm going through," he told himself aloud. "It's just a dream."_

_The Hood laughed. "Perhaps you need reminding of what I can do."_

Quite suddenly, Alan was awake and the Hood was gone. Alan sat up to see that he was still in his room.

_Guess it was just a dream_, he mused._ Weird._

Everything was quiet. Alan got up and walked out of his room into the hallway, then downstairs to the family area. He didn't see anybody. Everything looked normal.

_Wait a minute_.

Empty rooms and halls were not normal on Tracy Island. The dining room was empty. Onaha wasn't in the kitchen. Even his father's office was empty.

_Wait. John said he was going down to the silo. Maybe he's still there_.

A rational voice replied. _But he went down _before_ dinner, not after_.

Nevertheless this logic didn't seem to compute. He followed his legs, taking the elevator down to Thunderbird 2's silo.

At first, it too seemed empty.

"John?" he called.

Within seconds, John appeared out of Thunderbird 2's pod, carrying a couple of blackened fire extinguishers. He grinned when he saw Alan. "Hey, sprout."

Alan sighed with relief. "Hey."

John set the extinguishers down on the floor. "What are doing in here? Shouldn't you be getting to the debrief?"

Alan shrugged. "I was but none of the others are in the office."

John rolled his eyes "Typical Gordon. Dad's holding the debrief outside by the pool. There's a gorgeous sunset. Gordon was supposed to give you the message."

Alan frowned, puzzled. "What are you doing down here? I thought you restocked the equipment before dinner."

John cringed. "A mistake on my part. I wasn't aware we'd switched the old extinguishers for Brains' new O27 type extinguishers. So I have to switch them. My fault for not being on the ground enough, huh?"

_Makes sense._ Alan nodded. "Do want a hand? The quicker we're done, the quicker we can both get to the debrief."

"And helping me gives you an excuse to be late," John smiled knowingly, wrapping an arm around Alan's shoulders as they walked into the massive storage room on the other side of the silo. On one of the enormous racks covering one of the walls of the room stood a dozen 027 extinguishers.

Being the tallest, John reached up to pick one up and hand it to Alan. He picked up another. His grip obviously wasn't right, because he almost dropped it. He knocked the rest of the canisters with his hand, making the shelf wobble.

"Careful!" Alan told him. _That's odd. I thought Brains bolted all the racks to the wall_.

John smiled as he passed the second extinguisher to Alan. "I'm not too old for this yet, sprout."

He reached to grab the third one. "You take those two. I'll grab a couple more and meet you in the pod."

Alan nodded, doing as he was told. He was halfway across the silo when he heard an almighty crash and John cry out.

Dropping the extinguishers, he bolted back into the storage room. The entire rack and everything on it had fallen down…on top of John. Tools, abseiling gear, fire equipment; the combination would have crushed any human. The rack alone had to be heavy enough to support such weight.

John was visible from the shoulders up. He lay on his front with his head turned away, his arms sprawled.

"John!" Alan cried, navigating his way through the mess to reach the astronaut.

Upon seeing John's face, Alan let out a cry. John's eyes were open, staring lifelessly into space. Blood began to pool from under John's body, like juice leaking from a pulped fruit. Alan swallowed bile, backing away.

_This can't be happening. What am I going to do? What am I going to tell Dad?_

Alan sobbed as tear fell down his cheeks. "JOHN!"

"_There, there, Alan. No need to shout."_

He was back in his room, on his bed, exactly as he had been when he'd fallen asleep. He sat up, panting and shaking. The voice had disappeared. _Oh shit!_ he thought, holding his head in his shaking hands. _Oh my God!_

Alan jumped at the knock at his door. Gordon walked into the room a moment later. "Come on, you're gonna be late for debrief," his brother told him.

"Where's John?" Alan asked, not moving. _Is this a dream? Or was what I just saw a dream?_

Gordon looked puzzled. "John? He's with the others. Dad's taken the meeting-"

"Outside," Alan finished. He remembered what John had said before. "He wanted us to see the sunset."

"Yeah," Gordon mused, his brows knitting together as he observed Alan. _How did he know that? Fermat must've gotten to him before me. _ His little brother looked troubled, like he was trying to work out a really bad math equation. His blue eyes were unfocused. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Alan replied, still trying to put together the jumbled pieces.

Gordon motioned to the door. "Hop to it."

Alan got up and followed his brother. He warily took notice of things as he walked. The hall was empty. Onaha wasn't in the kitchen. There was nobody in the house.

_I've seen this before_, Alan thought, feeling sick. The only thing that kept him from running down to the silos was Gordon's word that John was outside.

And he was. John sat with Scott, Virgil, Fermat, and Jeff. The group was laughing at one of Scott's jokes. Onaha was serving them drinks. Kyrano watched them from a distance, smiling as he tended to the garden. It was so _normal_.

Alan couldn't take his eyes off John. _He's alive. It didn't happen_.

Upon seeing Gordon and Alan, Jeff gestured with a hand. "At last! Look's who finally made it!"

"We thought you'd gotten lost," Scott laughed.

"Serves you right for forgetting to tell Alan the meeting had moved," Virgil told Gordon.

"Alas, I am human." Gordon sat down on one of the free chairs.

"What's up with you, Alan?" Scott asked.

Alan was brought back to the present by the sound of someone saying his name. "What?"

John smiled. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

_Hilarious,_ Alan wanted to reply. Instead he sat down next to his brother. "I'm fine. Just half asleep."

They got through the meeting quickly, and when it was over, Alan excused himself.

He walked mechanically back to his room and sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands.

_It was a dream. It was just a dream._

Maybe that was what scared him the most. He remembered the Hood's words.

"_Pretty soon, Alan, you will not know the difference between dreaming and reality."_

It had been so real. The sights, the memories, even the smells. Just like the dream he'd had last night about Fermat.

Alan Tracy was officially freaked out. He clenched his hands, trying to stop them from shaking. A tiny knock on his door made him look up. John walked in with a smile.

_I've got to find a better hiding place. _

"Hey, Alan," John greeted. "Gordon told me you were looking for me earlier."

Alan frowned. "I was?"

John frowned.

_Act normal!_ "Yeah, I was," Alan quickly said. "I…I wanted to tell you…to remember to restock the empty extinguishers with the new O27 ones."

At least the dream had been useful for something.

John nodded. "I know. Virgil reminded me before I restocked."

Alan nodded, satisfied that John had completed the job and wasn't going to head down to the silo anytime soon. _It may have been a dream_, Alan thought. _But I'm not one to tempt fate_.

John came over and sat down next to him. "Are you sure there's nothing you want to talk about?" he asked gently.

Alan quickly shook his head.

"You know I won't pressure you, sprout," John said, frowning when he saw Alan's eyes glistening. "But I can tell that something has been bothering you lately. It's like you're scared of something."

"I'm not scared of anything," was the short response he received.

"It's okay to be scared," John murmured. His tone didn't help Alan, who was trying to stop the tears from coming. It had seemed so real. He could remember John's lifeless eyes…the blood… as if it was still right there in front of him.

He knew if he spoke again, his voice would crack and betray him, so he just shook his head.

"Okay," John submitted. "Well, if you want to talk about anything confidentially, come and find me."

Alan nodded, still avoiding John's eyes.

His older brother pulled him into a one-armed hug. "After all, us blondes have got to stick together."

Alan allowed himself to be embraced, but could not summon a smile.

John stood, running a hand over Alan's hair. _Something's not right_, he thought as he walked out, closing the door behind him. _And I intend to find out what_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow! You guys are amazing! I can't tell you how wonderful it is to open my inbox and see all those reviews waiting for me! Thanks so much for your support! **

**In fact, you've got me so excited I've decided to post the next chapter sooner, so I will have it up for you by Friday at the latest!**

**Until then!**

**Boann xx  
**

**Chapter 6**

Alan went to bed early. Lying on his side, he pushed one arm under the pillow, thinking.

_Maybe I'm having these dreams because I'm tired. Virgil says our body often tries to tell us something's wrong through our dreams. Maybe that migraine__ and the spider bite have run me down a bit. A good night's sleep will help me_.

His clock flashed 8:55 when his mind returned to John and the dream. He'd been so tempted by John's offer to discuss the issue. Alan knew if he asked John to keep things private, John would oblige. Any of the others would have spilled to each other and their father in order to "help". John, on the other hand, seemed to understand the notion of trust. He would only break his silence if he absolutely had to. After spring break, Alan had had no problem talking to John. But this time, it was different.

_I can never tell John what I saw. Not after what happened to him. He may be a Tracy, but I know he's still getting over what happened during spring break. Why else is he still at home and not back Thunderbird 5? _

He sighed to try and release his stress and close his eyes. He'd deliberately left his balcony doors open a bit to let the cool breeze in. The sounds of the ocean lulled him to sleep.

_He knew he was dreaming. But this time he wasn't afraid._

_He was sitting by the pool on a hot, sunny day. Propped up on a sun lounger, he was drinking a refreshing glass of soda and watching Gordon and Scott horse around in the pool. Virgil sat nearby, reading a magazine. John was with Kyrano near the garden. The two were engrossed in conversation._

_Alan lazily stretched, enjoying the feeling of the sun of his legs. _Now _this_ is what I call a dream.

"_Hey, Alan!" Scott called. "Come on in. The water's great!"_

_That sounded like a good idea. Tugging off his shirt, Alan got up and walked to the edge of the pool. He sat on the side, dipping his legs in the water. _

_Gordon popped out of the water next to him. "Want to play a game?" he asked._

_Scott frowned. "No, he's here with me. Go and play your own games!"_

_Gordon turned. "Stop being so bossy!"_

"_Stop being so immature!"_

_Alan wanted to point out that he was old enough to choose for himself, but could not speak without being cut off. The argument was ended by Scott, who pushed Gordon under the water. _

_Alan had to smile. But his smile disappeared when Scott showed no sign of letting Gordon go._

"_I think he's got the point, Scott," he chuckled nervously._

_Scott's face was unnaturally dark. It appeared he hadn't heard Alan at all._

"_Scott! Let him go!" Alan called._

_Scott looked up at him. "He deserves to be punished."_

"_Scott, stop it!"_

"_What are you going to do, Alan?" Scott provoked. "Are you going to save your brother?"_

_Alan didn't know how to reply. He didn't want to hurt Scott, but the sight of Gordon thrashing under the water…_

"_Please, Scott, stop it!" he cried. He looked around for Virgil and John, but they acted like they couldn't see any of what was happening. They were simply background action, like ghosts._

_Scott grinned mercilessly. His darkened eyes dared Alan to interfere. Alan couldn't stand it anymore. With a cry he tackled Scott, breaking his brother's hold on Gordon. Then, suddenly, he was tackling nothing but water. Scott was gone. Alan surfaced to see Gordon floating facedown in the water._

"_Gordon!" he called, reaching out to his brother. He felt a tug at his navel as the pool was replaced with a churning, black sea. Thunder boomed overhead and the water was ice cold._

"_No!" Alan gasped as the waves pulled him away from Gordon. He swam against them, muscles burning with the strain. He stretched forward, fingers grasping at the water in front of him. But he couldn't reach his brother, and before long lost sight of him completely._

"_Gordon!" he yelled. The only reply he got was the howling of the wind._

_Alan shivered, his body began to spasm from the cold biting at his skin. _Why would Scott do that? It's not like him!

That's because it wasn't him!_ The new, rational voice sounded very much like his own. _It's just a dream, remember?

But they were fighting_, another voice whimpered. _They were fighting today. Scott was so angry…Gordon's gone! Oh my God, someone, help!

_The last of his courage was swept away by the murky water. Fear consumed him, swallowing him whole._

_He sobbed and choked on salty water. __"Gordon!"_

"Alan, I'm here! Come on! Snap out of it."

Alan blearily opened his eyes. Gordon was above him, shaking him by the shoulders. He was bare-chested; Gordon never wore a shirt to bed. That was normal. The room was dark. A cold wind blew in from the open balcony door. Alan shivered.

Gordon frowned worriedly. He'd popped his head in to say goodnight and found Alan thrashing in his bed. When Alan called his name, Gordon had immediately walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He'd reached his brother just in time to grab his shoulders and stop him from falling off the bed. He wasn't unused to waking Alan from nightmares. As kids, they'd practically shared rooms at night. But this one was different. A couple of things had struck him as being odd. Firstly, Alan wasn't normally a quiet dreamer. Although he'd called Gordon's name, he hadn't shouted. If Gordon hadn't been in the room, he wouldn't have heard it. Secondly, Alan usually woke up after a good shake, but this time he had shown no sign of rousing even after a whole minute.

"Gordon?"

Gordon frowned and unconsciously tightened his grip on Alan's shoulders. Alan was drenched in sweat and shaking like he'd been to the arctic and back. Even in the dark room Gordon could see the his younger brother's eyes were a little unfocused.

"Hey, sprout," Gordon breathed. Relieved as he was, he was unable to offer a smile. "You with me?"

Alan let out a ragged breath, closing his eyes. "Yeah."

Gordon's brow remained creased. "Want to tell me what's on your mind?"

Alan opened his eyes. They darted back and forth as if he was trying to remember. Then they looked up at Gordon. "Are you okay?"

The question threw Gordon. "Yeah," he replied. "'Course I'm okay."

Alan nodded and let out another ragged breath. Gordon could have sworn that he saw Alan's bottom lip tremble. _Must be the bad light_, he deduced. _Alan doesn't cry._

Nevertheless, he couldn't help raising one hand to push Alan's hair back from his sweaty brow. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked softly. _Scott or John would have been more subtle. Virgil would have understood the psych aspect better_, he thought regretfully. But rather than rush to bring everyone running to Alan's rescue, Gordon figured he'd give it a try by himself.

Alan didn't reply. He just looked to the open balcony door. "It's cold," he murmured.

_Epic fail._ Gordon got up and gently closed the glass door. He returned to Alan's side only to find that his little brother had already fallen back to sleep.

His worry and suspicion faded. _It couldn't have been that bad after all._

Readjusting the messed bedclothes and tucking Alan in, Gordon quietly crept out of the room, intent on finding sleep himself.

As soon as he heard the door close, Alan opened his eyes. There was no way he was telling Gordon about the strange dream and feigning sleep had been the easiest way out of that. Normally, going back to sleep would have seemed the easiest way to forget about a bad dream. But not this time.

_I'm not able to separate dreams from reality anymore. They're so re__al. If The Hood can get to me when I'm sleeping, then the only way to stop him is by staying awake. _

His mind made up, he got out of bed and crept down the hall to his father's office. It appeared everyone had gone to bed.

_Good_. Alan accessed his father's computer, typing in a search entry. He scrolled through the many articles he'd found, opening a few. They were mostly medical essays or blogs, but they offered the information he needed.

"_The human body can last up to five days without sleep."_

"_You can go without sleep for ten days before you die. I did it!"_

"_The world record for time without sleep is eleven days by Randy Gardener in 1965"_

"_Several test subjects under strict observation remained awake for eight to ten days without suffering any psychological, physical, or neurological problems"_

Alan closed the search, then began a new one.

"_The international criminal known as "The Hood" remains in HM Prison Wakefield, the largest maximum security prison in Britain."_

"_His trial, overseen by Judge Maxwell Clarke, found Belagant guilty of one hundred and fifty four charges. He will serve life at HM Wakefield Prison in Yorkshire, England."_

Alan closed the articles, resting his elbows on the desk and holding his head in his hands. He had ten days, if he was lucky, to find out how The Hood was getting into his mind and stop him - all without his family finding out.

_The more they know, the more they'll be in danger. __I can't let him get to anyone else. I have to stop him before my dreams become real_.

"_I am going to show you what is in my mind, Alan__,"_ The Hood had said.

And it was clear that the only thing on The Hood's mind was the death of everyone Alan loved.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott whistled as he jogged down to the beach. True, it was 5:30am and many, his brothers included, would agree that the hour was ungodly. But the air was crisp, the sunrise was idyllic, and the cloudless sky promised a beautiful day.

When he reached the shore, he increased his pace to a run. His shoes sank into the soft, white sand, adding extra resistance. Within a few minutes, his legs started to burn. Scott grinned, keeping up his speed. His morning runs were often interrupted by rescues and uneven sleep patterns that resulted from being called late in the night. He tried hard to stick to his schedule, running for at least an hour every day. It was nice to have the beach all to himself. Though on a private island, one didn't expect to see crowds. What was also unexpected was seeing any of his brothers up at this hour, so when he saw Alan walking along the beach, he stopped.

"Hey, buddy," he greeted a little unsurely.

Alan, it seemed, had not been completely awake. He looked up and jumped when he saw Scott.

Scott smiled, holding Alan's shoulders. "Whoa! I'm not _that_ ugly, am I?

Alan offered a small smile. "Don't blame yourself. It _is_ early."

Despite his brother's joke, Scott frowned. He offered his brother a grin so as to dissuade any accusations of mothering. "Speaking of which, what are you doing up at this hour?"

Alan shrugged. "Just am."

His reply didn't ease Scott's concern. "Bad dreams?"

Alan's hesitation confirmed his suspicions. "I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," the youngest shrugged again. "I had an early night."

Scott was unconvinced, but he let it go. _No use pushing him if he doesn't want to talk_. "Well, since you are up, fancy running with me?"

Alan shook his head quickly, hoping his reaction didn't appear odd. _Running will tire me out and I need all the energy I can get._

He hoped a smile would erase Scott's suspicion. "Nah, I'm on my way home. I'll catch you at breakfast."

"Okay," Scott replied as Alan walked.

Alan could feel Scott's gaze burning his back. _Phew! Close one. I'm going to have to get better at this if I'm going to last ten days. Brothers can be so nosy!_

When he reached the house, he helped himself to a cup of coffee and an energy bar, and sat down to watch TV. After about an hour, Onaha and Kyrano emerged. Kyrano offered a friendly hello and set about his chores. Onaha was not so easily distracted. The Malaysian mother was less than satisfied with Alan's "I've just eaten a muesli bar" and marched him into the kitchen for some "real food".

Alan couldn't complain. Onaha's cooking was always fantastic and he needed all the oomph he could get. _Breakfast food is energy food. _He sat at the counter, trying to shake off any urges to yawn. _This is ridiculous. I've been awake six hours and already I'm tired._

Onaha set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him, complete with a side of toast and a glass of orange juice. Alan had wisely left his mug in the lounge. Onaha would have a fit if she'd known he'd been drinking coffee.

"Thanks," he sighed gratefully, tucking in.

Onaha didn't go back to her cooking. Instead she leant on the counter.

Alan chewed on his bacon, pretending not to notice. _Great. Another routine inspection._

Before Onaha could mention anything about how tired he looked, he asked, "How's Tintin?"

Onaha smiled and straightened. "She is having a wonderful time. Lady Penelope is very kind to let her stay."

Alan nodded. Onaha went back to the stove, apparently satisfied. Finishing his breakfast as quickly as possible to avoid any more questions, Alan hopped off his stool and hurried down the hall.

_A shower should freshen me up a bit. Then I need to get started on-_

"Oof!" he cried as he walked into something.

That something turned out to be some_one_.

"Hey, sprout!" Virgil grinned.

Alan blinked in amazement. "Virgil?"

"Do I have a twin I don't know about?"

Alan raised an eyebrow. "Ah, maybe. It's seven in the morning."

Virgil raised his hands. "Okay, enough you! I get enough from the others. Believe it or not I've got a lot to do today. I've got to spring clean the infirmary. Usually Brains helps me out and we get it done in a day, but seeing as he's topside, I'm on my own. Wanna help?"

The face Alan made more than conveyed his answer.

Virgil laughed. "Okay, point taken. I'll see you round."

Alan took a quick, cold shower, dressed, and booted up the computer in his room. During the day, it was okay for him to use his own console, but during the night, he'd have to use the office one to avoid making noise.

He began a new search on the Internet. _If I have any chance of stopping The Hood, I have to know how he's getting into my dreams. Fermat says everything can be explained by science, so that's where I'll start._

It took him a couple of hours before he got anything. The Hood's powers were unlike anything anyone had ever seen before, and so they weren't well researched. The closest article he got was,

_ "Astral Projection: Sciences of the Subconscious""_

_Astral projection has long been documented as a type of "out of body experience." It involves the separation of the physical body and astral (mental) body, resulting in the astral body being able to travel where the physical body cannot. Although this process can occur as unconsciously as a dream, it is also possible to practice astral projection deliberately. Astral projection is an idea considered by many different religions around the world, and despite a lack of scientific evidence, hundreds of perspective accounts defend its existence._

Alan sighed. _But it doesn't explain anything about dreams. Maybe The Hood's using his powers to amplify astral projection or something. _

He clicked on another page titled "Lucid Dreaming"

_Lucid dreaming has been defined as dreaming whilst aware that you are dreaming. This is, in a sense, related with controlling one's dreams as they are happening…However, it has been debated that lucid dreaming may mean that the dreamer does not possess a complete awareness that he/she is dreaming. Whilst the dreamer may have the ability to control his/her actions, physical threats may seem completely real…_

_Three situations have been linked with lucidity in dreams being lost._

_1. Fear of Social Consequences_

_2. Fear of physical injury_

_3. Belief that other people in the dream are real._

It was all sounding familiar, but none of it was offering answers. _I'm not controlling my dreams, The Hood is._

He continued his search, pulling up many websites including, "_Dream Stealing: Is Satan Hiding Under Your Bed?_" and "_Real Dreams: A Study of Clinical Insanity_"

Every time the screen started to blur, he stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air or went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The next time he looked at the clock, it was just past two in the afternoon. With a groan, he held his head in his hands.

_Randy what's-his-name was insane! How could anyone go without sleep for one day, let alone eleven?__ I need to move._

Getting up and stretching, he headed downstairs. He avoided the kitchen and dining room, skirting the wall and heading towards the back of the house. Being seen by anybody would no doubt lead to being questioned about his whereabouts all day. He'd also missed lunch, so avoiding Onaha was a given if he wanted to stay alive. He needed to keep busy and out of sight.

_I can't believe I'm gonna do this._

He walked into the infirmary, where Virgil was laying out equipment on one of the tables. Boxes of supplies were stacked up against the walls, out of the way in case of an emergency. Virgil held an electronic clipboard, the pointer sticking out of his mouth as he counted. He looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Alan sighed, shrugging. "Want any help?"

Virgil frowned, setting down the pointer and the clipboard. "This way," he said, pointing as he walked. He stopped at one of the beds, patting the mattress. "Sit," he instructed.

Alan instinctively stopped, throwing his brother a suspicious look. "I thought you said you needed help counting things, not someone to test your supplies on."

"I did," Virgil nodded. "But that was until I realised I had a major medical emergency on my hands."

Alan was totally confused by now. "What are you talking about?"

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "I have enough trouble getting you in here when you're sick, let alone when your not. And now you're in here willingly? You must be near death."

_You have no idea._ "Ha-ha, very funny," Alan griped moodily. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Sure." Grinning, Virgil motioned for him to follow. They went inside the supply room; a small space holding shelves stacked with cotton buds, gloves, gauze, antiseptic, and every other possible form of harmless medical equipment.

"You think you can tally these for me?" Virgil asked him, handing him another clipboard that had been resting on one of the shelves next to the compression bandages.

"Better than that, I'll race you," Alan swiped the clipboard.

When Virgil had left him alone, he exhaustedly threw his head against one of the shelves with a thud.

_It's a pity none of the spare resuscitators are kept in here. I'm going to go into cardiac arrest out of boredom!_

Shaking himself, he straightened. _No, you have to focus. Stay awake. Keep busy_.

And so he got started. As he progressed, he found himself making silly mistakes or losing count, which caused him to work slower than he'd like.

He was about halfway through the supplies when Virgil came in.

"Still going, sprout?" he asked with a grin.

By now, Alan was in a foul mood. "I can sit my arse in front of the pool if you'd prefer!"

Virgil held up two muffins. "I come bearing gifts." He tossed one to Alan, who caught it and began devouring it. Alan made a mental note not to miss lunch again.

Virgil sat on the floor, leaning against the shelves and stretching his legs out in front of him. Alan was tempted to join him, but he resisted. _If I sit down, I'll fall asleep._

Instead he settled with returning to work, munching the cake as he went.

"You okay, Alan?"

Alan simmered. "Why do you guys always ask me that?" he questioned.

Virgil obviously sensed his annoyance. "I'm just asking. You look tired, that's all."

"I'm fine," Alan said through gritted teeth. "And I wish you guys would stop bugging me."

"Sorry," Virgil said.

Alan gave up. _I can't work like this_. "Hey Virg, do you mind if I leave the rest til tomorrow? I promised Fermat I'd…"

"Sure," Virgil replied before Alan could think of an excuse.

Alan left as quickly as possible, stuffing the last of the muffin in his mouth and heading outside. He managed to avoid being noticed. The pool was unusually empty and the sun was starting to dip from the sky. He continued down the beach with his hands in his pockets, savouring the cool sea air. He sat himself down on the sand. It was getting cold, but it made him uncomfortable and that was a blessing. The last thing he needed was a warm jacket to lull him into a false sense of security. He watched the sun slowly sink to the horizon. Suddenly it was gone, swallowed whole by the sea. Alan wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees up, shivering.

_There's got to be an answer. The Hood must have found a way to do that astral thing. Maybe if he combined that with his power, he could project himself into my dreams. After all, he __is gifted when it comes to messing with people's heads. I just have to make sure I keep him out of mine. If only I could make him tell me what he was doing. But there's no way I'm getting to England without my family cottoning on. _

He sat there, lost in his own thoughts.

He jumped when something cold touched his arm. He looked up to see John standing beside him.

"Easy, it's just me," John smiled down at him and withdrew the hand he had used to rub Alan's bicep.

_I should have known_, Alan thought. _John's always got cold fingertips. Bad circulation from Mum._

"Sorry," Alan murmured, looking back out at the sea.

John crouched beside him. "I got worried when you didn't show for dinner. I thought I should come and look for you."

Alan swallowed, too tired to point out that he knew that "I" meant "we". He slowly got to his feet.

"What are you doing out here?" John asked, helping him up. He frowned when he felt Alan's skin. "You're freezing!"

Alan shook him off. "I'm fine. I must have just lost track of the time," he mumbled, brushing the sand off his shorts.

John removed his jacket and handed it to him. Alan reluctantly took it, shrugging it on and wrapping his arms around himself.

"You don't need to worry about me so much, you know," he said as they walked.

"'Course I do, I'm your brother," John replied with a smile.

"That's what I mean," Alan groaned. "You guys act like it's your responsibility to make sure that I'm 100% okay all the time, and if I'm not you immediately bug me about it."

John smiled. "But it's our responsibility, Alan. We're your brothers. We don't mean to be annoying. We just care about you."

Alan sighed, "I just wish sometimes that you'd trust me. If I'm not okay, I'll tell you. But ever since spring break you've all been so protective. I know that Scott even tried to convince Dad to take me out of Wharton's and have me home-schooled."

John ran a hand through his perfectly styled, platinum hair. "Yeah, I heard too," he murmured. "And you're right. After spring break, we all went into overdrive. We almost lost you and we never want that to happen again. I'm sorry if we've been upsetting you."

Alan shook his head. "It's okay."

John put a hand on Alan's shoulder as the walked up the steps onto the patio. "Hey. We may worry for you, but don't ever think that we don't trust you. We're so proud of what you did and what you're achieving at the moment. Just promise me that if you ever need to talk about anything, you'll come to any one of us."

Alan smiled, grateful for John's words. Privately, he wondered if he had gotten through at all.

John pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Come on, sprout," he smiled. "Let's get some food into you. You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."

Alan was too tired to laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

**I have no excuse for the late update - I'm sorry!! By way of apology I have posted 2 chapters today. Thanks to you all for your reviews, in particular Little Miss Bump for the corrections. **

**Hope you enjoy! A Merry Christmas to you all!**

**Boann**

**Chapter 7**

The next three days passed as a blur. And in Alan's case, the blur was getting bigger. Making it through the first night without collapsing onto his bed had truly tested him. He'd told himself to manage the days and nights methodically. He never spent more than two hours on one activity. His brain wouldn't let him concentrate on anything for much longer than that anyway. He was also going through a lot of coffee. Alan was convinced that he was drinking even his caffeine-dependent father under the table. It was on the third afternoon that Alan experienced his first hyperactive episode. He'd channeled it into playing a game of water volleyball with Gordon, Scott, and John.

"Gordon, just serve already!" Scott groaned.

"I would if I could concentrate," Gordon defended. "Alan, stop laughing!"

The young blonde clamped his lips shut, but was unable to keep his shoulders from shaking. Everything was just so funny. In an attempt to control himself, he tried to focus on something utterly boring. Unlucky for him, he chose to focus on Scott, whose hair was still a pale shade of green.

The sight sent him into another fit of giggles.

Gordon could only shake his head. He dropped the ball and swam to Alan, grabbing his little brother around the middle and dunking him. That sobered Alan. He stopped guffawing just in time to stop himself from sucking in a lungful of water.

Gordon pulled him up.

Scott swam over. "Gordon, what the hell are you doing? He could have drowned!" he yelled over the splashing of the water.

"At least he would have died quietly!" Gordon argued.

Alan pushed his fringe from his face, coughing. "Chill," he spluttered. "I'm okay."

John joined them. "Come on, you two. Let's take five, huh? Alan's fine."

"You're such an idiot!" Scott hissed.

"At least my hair looks better than yours," Gordon grumbled.

"You see!" Scott waved his hand. "That's what I'm talking about! You're always so immature!"

"You love me," Gordon provoked.

Alan was completely sobered by the memory of his last dream. "Stop it, guys," he said.

He was ignored.

"Just because you have a reputation of being juvenile, doesn't mean that you have to live it up all the time!"

"Maybe you should follow my example and have some fun once in a while!"

In his mind, Alan was back there; amidst the black swirling depths. The waves roared in his ears, battling over his brothers' raised voices. He pulled himself out of the memory, yelling. "STOP IT!"

Scott and Gordon both looked at him in shock.

Alan panted, trying to control his shaking. He couldn't offer an explanation. "Just stop it," he whimpered, pulling himself out of the water and retreating into the house.

Scott, Gordon, and John watched him in amazement, sharing the same thoughts. Alan had never yelled at them like that before. One minute he'd been laughing, the next he'd been so angry. He'd sounded so desperate.

John looked at the others. "Let's call it a day," he told them somberly, getting out of the pool.

Scott and Gordon exchanged a guilty look before doing the same.

When he reached his room, Alan slammed the door shut. He went into his bathroom, and turned on the shower, letting the room fill with steam.

_I'm losing it_, he thought, resting his head against the shower door. _I should never have yelled like that. Now they're going to think something's wrong. What if they find out? Two days of research have given me barely anything. They can't find out until I know what The Hood is doing! What if he hurts them? _

He took a deep breath. _Pull yourself together. You're just tired._

He pulled off his swimming shorts and stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away his stress. His hands shook as thoughts of despair continued to bombard him.

_You can't do this. What were you thinking? Even if you do find out what The Hood is doing, you couldn't stop him. He's too strong. You know he's too strong! Remember what happened at the bank? He picked you up and dangled you like you were a leaf_!

Alan swallowed a lump in his throat. He leant against the tiled wall, his eyes prickling. _You're helpless. Not even your family can save you this time._

He sagged against the wall as tears fell down his cheeks. _I'm' not going to make ten days! Three days in and_ _I'm so tired._

He sniffed, gazing upwards. The steam from the hot water danced above him, playfully hitting the ceiling and then fading into nothingness. He allowed himself to be mesmerised by them. His eyelids felt so heavy. He leaned back against the wall, letting it take his weight.

His foot suddenly slipping on the shower floor jolted him back to consciousness. _Oh God_. He panted. _I almost fell asleep!_ Quickly he turned the hot water off and turned the cold up. The chilled water sobered him. He turned off the water and got out, rushing to dry and change for dinner. He'd just pulled on his shirt when suddenly the klaxon went off.

_Why is it always before dinner?_ Alan moaned to himself as he ran to the office.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Watch your left wing, Thunderbird 2! You're close to the tower!"

At Scott's warning, Virgil veered the enormous vessel right. Alan and Gordon, who were standing over a console, were nearly thrown off their feet.

"Virgil!" Gordon cried as he righted himself, gripping on to the edge of the console and encouraging Alan to do the same.

"Sorry," was Virgil's tight reply.

John, who was sitting in his seat and monitoring some readings, couldn't help but smile cheekily. "You guys volunteered to navigate," he pointed out.

"We had no choice," Gordon argued. "That fog is so thick, Virgil's flying blind."

The communications tower was completely lost in the thick fog. Structurally unstable after a storm, the tower was swaying dangerously. It was coming down, there was no question. The Thunderbirds just had to evacuate the three technicians inside before it did.

"Something tells me they won't be so eager to work late at the office again," Gordon murmured as he concentrated on the readings. Brains had created a navigator based on underwater sonar systems. It utilised magnetic waves to create an image of the surrounding area. The only problem was that Brains hadn't yet managed to increase the range beyond a few yards, so Virgil had to maintain a precariously close distance.

Scott was staying clear, trying to shift some of the fog with his thrusters.

Gordon wore a permanent frown as he closely watched the readings. "Okay, hold it there," he instructed. "I'm going to prep the rescue platform. Can you hold her steady?"

"Sure," Virgil tersely replied. "When you're ready, I'll lower the platform first and then approach the tower. I don't want her thrusters to be pressuring it whilst we wait for you to get ready."

"FAB," Gordon nodded. "Alan, think you can handle being away from me for a while?"

"I think I'll survive," Alan replied without heat. He leaned over the console.

It only took Gordon a few minutes to get ready. When he radioed his confirmation, Virgil lowered the rescue platform with the aquanaut in it. John managed to open a communication line through the fog and tell the technicians what they had to do.

Alan sighed, tiredly. Rescue platform or not, climbing out of a window that high off the ground is no easy thing. Luckily, the technicians appeared to understand and responded lucidly.

"Gordon, hang on," Virgil instructed. "Preparing to approach the tower. Alan, keep a close eye on those magnetic readings."

"Sure," Alan replied, blinking as the pictures started to swirl. _Pay attention!_

From the look of things on the monitor, Virgil was well clear of the tower.

Slowly, Virgil raised Thunderbird 2 until the rescue platform was level with the tower windows. At Gordon's command, Virgil stopped.

"The pressure from your thrusters is pretty intense, Virg," Gordon reported. "The first technician is climbing out to me. We can't stay here too long. The tower won't take it."

"FAB, Gordon," Virgil replied. "Keep me posted on the tower's condition."

"Virgil, we've got a swell approaching fast," John reported.

"Crap," Virgil cursed. "Hopefully Gordon gets everyone out of there soon. I can't let Thunderbird 2 wobble in the wind and bump the tower."

"Alan, keep your eyes locked on that monitor," John said sternly. He looked over his shoulder when he didn't receive a confirmation. Alan was staring into space, blue eyes unfocused.

"Alan!" John called.

Alan jumped and looked at him. "Sorry."

John frowned at how fragile his little brother looked. "Stay focused, Alan. There's a strong wind approaching and we can't let it blow us towards the tower."

"Got it," Alan replied. _Come on_, he pleaded. Something odd was happening. It was so hard to focus. He wanted so desperately to close his eyes. He felt hot and his legs were shaking as he stood over the monitor, trying to make sense of the blurred shapes on the screen. _Not now! Lives are at stake! I can't just ignore what's going on. Just a little longer, then you'll be home. You can get some coffee and have a cold shower. That will wake you up. Then you just…_

"ALAN!"

A shudder thundered through the entire ship. Already unsteady on his feet, Alan was spun around and thrown to the ground. He threw out his hands to save himself from falling face-first on the floor, but it didn't help him. A sharp pain shot through his right wrist as he landed.

Garbled words penetrated his stupor.

"Gordon…got…all…?"

"Can't…have…pull back!"

"Negative…not…still…"

"Another…swell…Alan…"

"All…board…back!"

"Tower's…she's…Gordon!"

Alan shook his head, panting. Wobbling where he sat, he tried to make sense of what was happening.

He came back to reality in time to hear Virgil sigh loudly. "Thank God!"

John was calm. "Gordon, are any of the technicians injured?"

"Negative," replied Gordon, sounding breathless. "We're fine. That was close."

"Understatement," Virgil agreed, turning his head to exchange a look with John. But the blonde astronaut was no longer in his seat. He was with Alan, who was on the floor looking stunned. Virgil flipped a switch. "Raising the rescue platform. We'll get the technicians to the nearest hospital."

"What happened?" Gordon asked. "I thought Alan was monitoring the distance between the ship and the tower. He should have told you that you were too close!"

Virgil sighed again, resting his elbows on the control panel and holding his head in his hands.

Alan was fully awake now. The adrenaline rush had kept him sober enough to hear Gordon over the radio. John crouched beside him, holding the top of his right arm to keep him steady.

"What happened?" Alan whispered, partly to himself.

John gently murmured. "The swell came in faster than we thought. I called to warn you so that you could guide Virgil, but you wouldn't respond and we were hit. Gordon was helping the last man out and we nearly lost both of them."

_Oh my God_, Alan swallowed_. It's my fault. I nearly got people killed_.

John frowned as he watched his little brother. Alan was shaking under his hand. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His eyes, underlined with black circles, filled with tears.

"Alan, what happened?" he asked softly. "You didn't even look at us when we called you. It was like you were on another planet."

His brother had been careless, stupid even. But John was now convinced something was going on. The Alan he knew would never knowingly put lives at risk. The tears that leaked from his baby brother's eyes confirmed his suspicions. Wordlessly, he pulled Alan to his chest, wrapping his arms around the shivering boy.

Alan pulled away quickly, the warmth and safety his brother's arms promised tempting sleep. He used his good hand to scrub away his tears.

John rubbed his arm. "Can you stand?"

Alan nodded, unsteadily rising. He wobbled, and John grabbed his bad wrist to stop him from falling. Alan gasped as the pain reignited.

John held him by the shoulders. "Virgil," he called.

Virgil had just finished reporting to Scott when John called. Hearing Alan's cry, Virgil had already put the ship on autopilot and gotten out of his chair. "What hurts, Alan?"

The last thing Alan wanted was pity. He didn't deserve it and he felt stupid enough as it was. Silently, he shook his head.

"Alan, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," Virgil said.

Alan picked up on the impatience in his brother's voice. "S'my fault. I'll fix it," he croaked, walking swiftly out of the cockpit.

John looked at Virgil. "Do you want me to go?"

Virgil sighed, shaking his head. "No, I'd better look at him. He wasn't wearing a safety restraint and we took a hard knock. Can you pilot us to the hospital? I shouldn't be long."

John looked reluctant. "Sure. If it helps, I think it's his right wrist."

"Thanks," Virgil nodded. He started to follow Alan when John's voice stopped him.

"Virg," John called. "Go easy on him."

Virgil offered no smile or nod as he left.

* * *

Alan huddled on the floor, his back against the cold wall. It probably wasn't smart for him to be hiding in the med bay of all places, but he didn't have the energy to think of another plan. He held his throbbing wrist protectively to his chest, trying not to cry.

_I can't do this_, he thought despairingly. _I can't pretend. Not after what I did._

A wretched sob escaped him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

_Dad will never let me on another mission once he hears what happened. You can't make mistakes in this business. God! Gordon almost died!__ When Scott finds out what I did, he'll yell at me. Fermat will be so disappointed in me. _

He jumped out of his skin when two hands grasped his shoulders. He looked up to see Virgil kneeling in front of him. "Easy!" Virgil hushed. "Calm down. It's me. I've been talking to you for near a minute, sprout."

Looking at his little brother, Virgil was very concerned. He'd expected Alan to experience some symptoms of shock after what had happened, but something else was amiss. Alan looked like the living dead. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot and teary.

Virgil rubbed Alan's shaking arm, hoping some comfort would encourage him to talk. "What's going on?"

Alan shook his head, his breath hitching.

Something inside told Virgil that now was no time to be impatient. Instead of pressing the matter, he held out his hand. "Can I see?" he asked gently.

Alan hesitated, then held out his right arm.

Pulling back the sleeve of Alan's flight uniform, Virgil expertly felt his wrist. When he put pressure on one point, Alan hissed and tried to pull away.

Virgil used his other hand to hold Alan's arm, preventing him from withdrawing. "Sorry, kiddo," he apologised. "Looks like it's sprained. Why don't you hop up and I'll wrap it up for you?"

Alan only looked away.

_It's definitely shock_, Virgil mused. _But there's something else not right_.

He held a hand to Alan's cheek, steering his face forward. "Look at me," Virgil gently instructed. Alan's blue eyes quivered, but focused on him. The medic used his gloved thumb to stroke Alan's jaw. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone's fine."

Alan shook his head. "No," he mumbled. "I almost…Gord'n…"

"Shhh," Virgil hushed his incoherent brother, squeezing his shoulder. "We all make mistakes. It's okay."

Alan breath hitched again. He leaned his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. _Boy, it would be so easy to sleep right now_, he thought miserably. _Maybe The Hood was right. I can never escape him. I'm trapped. _

A sharp shake made him gasp, jolting him back to reality. "Alan," Virgil spoke to him sternly, holding his face in his gloved hands. Virgil's dark eyebrows were knitted tightly together and his brandy eyes burned with worry. "Alan, look at me. That's the second time you've spaced out on me in less than ten minutes, sprout. Are you okay?"

Alan had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop his bottom lip trembling at the serious tone of his brother's voice. He nodded.

Virgil looked anything but convinced as he pulled Alan to his feet. The movement was a bit too fast for the exhausted teenager. The world spun and he wobbled.

Virgil caught him, being careful of his wrist. "Whoa, easy! Stay with me."

Alan held out his good hand to grip the examination bed, steadying himself.

"Sit down," Virgil encouraged, propping him up on the bed.

Alan sat, but kept his good hand firmly clamped around the edge of the bed to stop himself from tipping over. There had been a reason why he'd chosen to sit on the floor against the wall.

Virgil watched Alan intently as he removed the kid's glove. Not only did Alan seem extremely disorientated, he was also unusually quiet. The youngest Tracy always made it clear to Virgil that he disliked being mothered, especially in an infirmary. But this time, he did not protest. Mulling over these thoughts, Virgil proceeded to grab a bandage and wrap his brother's wrist.

"Having you been finding it hard to concentrate lately, sprout?" he asked.

Alan shook his head.

"What about now?"

Another shake.

_He's scared_, Virgil realised. _But of what?_

Virgil recognised he wasn't going to get any answers. He secured the bandage and patted Alan's knee. "Why don't you get some sleep? We'll be home soon."

Alan jerked. "No!"

Virgil blinked.

Upon seeing his brother's shocked expression, Alan controlled himself. "No, I'm fine."

Virgil's hand rubbed his knee again. "Listen, sprout. You're in shock. The best thing you can do is rest."

Alan shook his head again, his gaze lowered.

Unfortunately for Alan, Virgil chose this moment to be stern. He pressed on Alan's shoulder to encourage him to lie down. Unable to put weight on his wrist, Alan could not push against him.

"No, I don't want to," he moaned, trying to wriggle his shoulder away.

Virgil mistook his anxiety for confusion brought on by shock. "Easy," he soothed. "Just lay down."

Alan panicked. He knew that the moment he hit the bed, he would be out for the count.

He yelled. "Stop it!"

Virgil released him, looking shocked.

"Stop smothering me!" Alan pleaded.

Virgil eyed him worriedly. "Alan…"

"Just go!" Alan told him.

Virgil nodded. His face wore a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and hurt. "Call if you need anything," he offered softly before leaving.

Alan immediately hopped off the bed and started walking around the small infirmary. He tried to concentrate on something to distract him from his body's nagging to sleep. He jumped when he saw John in the doorway.

His brother raised his eyebrows innocently. "Mind if I join you?"

Alan sighed, leaning against one of the worktops that lined the room. "I don't need a babysitter," he mumbled.

"I'm not here to baby-sit you." John walked inside and leaned on the bed. "I'm here to talk to you."

_It's a distraction at least_, Alan thought. "About what?"

"About what you said to Virgil," John replied. His face wore an uncharacteristically stern expression.

Alan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I understand that you don't like being fussed over, Alan," John said. "But Virgil was only doing his job."

"No, he was being Virgil," Alan argued defensively. He was getting angry and could feel a headache coming on. "I said I didn't want to rest but he kept pushing."

"And as he is the medic, you should have taken his advice," John said.

Alan sulked. John was one of those people who didn't have to raise his voice to let you know he was angry or disappointed in you. It made his lectures, however rare, all the more annoying.

"I don't need to rest," he argued, avoiding John's eyes.

"From where I'm standing, it doesn't look that way," John said softly. He approached Alan, studying his little brother's face. "Alan, when was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

Alan concluded that the safest answer was no answer at all.

John rubbed his brother's arm. "Are you having nightmares again?"

Alan shook him off. "No." _You have to sleep to have nightmares_.

John nodded, his brow creasing slightly in a worried expression. He sighed. "When we get home, I want you to rest." He held up a hand to interrupt Alan's protests. "Or I'll talk to Dad."

"You're blackmailing me?" Alan realised.

John raised an eyebrow. "If it will make you see sense."

Alan glared as John left. _I'll just have to fake it_, he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

When the boys arrived back home, Alan wasted no time. He stumbled to his room, locked his door and hopped in the shower. The cold water was proving less effective each time. He leaned against the wall, turning the temperature to its absolute minimum. Before long, his whole body was shaking from the cold. His own breath fogged up the glass door.

_Just stay away from everyone for a few hours. Make them think you're taking a nap._

As much as he wanted to avoid his family, his guilt over snapping at Virgil wouldn't go away.

Alan jumped when a dark shape shot past the shower door. He froze. Turning off the water, he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his hips.

"Somebody there?" he called.

There was no answer.

_I definitely saw something. I'm not crazy. _

He carefully opened the shower door, but saw no one. Dismissing his suspicions, he dressed and ran a hand through his damp hair.

His first instinct was to flop down on his bed as he usually did after a rescue. He stopped halfway, panicking. _Got to find a distraction_, he thought as he edges of his vision blurred.

_Find Virgil_, a voice told him. _You have to say you're sorry._

Nodding to himself, Alan walked unsteadily out of his room. "Where is Virgil?" he asked himself.

"Thunderbird 2. That's where he was before."

"Hey Alan!"

Alan jumped, flattening himself against the wall. "Fermat?"

The spectacled boy frowned. "Alan, are you al…al…what's wrong?"

Alan shook his head. "Nothing. What are you doing here?"

Fermat's frown deepened as he observed his friend. "I just got back from Thunderbird 1. Scott and I have been mon…mon…inspecting a few of her systems. I th…th…believe we can make a few im…im…positive alterations."

Alan appeared to not have heard what he said. "Scott? He's coming?"

Alan panicked. The voice inside his head agreed. _Scott's smart. He'll catch you! Go! Find Virgil_!

"Yeah, he should be s…s…shortly," Fermat replied. "Alan, are you s…s…positive you're okay?"

Alan ignored him, taking off. He ran to Thunderbird 2's silo. "Virgil?" he called. _Something's wrong_, he realised. His whole body shook and his vision was getting worse.

_Find Virgil!_ The voice insisted. Alan ran into the pod, desperately calling his brother's name. He ran to the med bay, but found it empty. He ran towards the cockpit.

Virgil was taking his time with post flight checks. He had to admit he'd taken Alan's rejection of him a little hard. Alan had always grumbled and joked about his 'mother hen-ness', but he'd never pushed him away.

It convinced Virgil that something was wrong, but unless Alan was willing to come to him, he doubted he'd find out what the problem was.

_Maybe John can help me with this one. He seems to be able to talk to Alan_.

"Virgil!"

Virgil whirled around at the sound of Alan's voice echoing through the ship. Alan sounded scared and desperate. His brotherly sensors on high alert, Virgil went to go and look for Alan. He got halfway to the door before his little brother ran into the cockpit, panting as if he'd run a marathon.

"Alan?" Virgil frowned. Alan was shockingly white. Dark circles ringed his bloodshot, unfocused eyes.

"Virgil, where are you?" Alan yelled, quickly scanning the room. _The cockpit is empty. I can't find him!_

Virgil walked slowly towards Alan. Alan's eyes darted around, not once remaining focused on him. Virgil was very worried now. It was as if Alan was on drugs. His mind was clearly not in reality. _Can he even see me?_

"Alan, I'm here. Can you hear me?" Virgil asked. He gently took hold of his little brother's shoulders. Alan reacted immediately, jumping a foot in the air. His blue eyes locked on to Virgil's chestnut ones.

"Hey!" Virgil gasped, holding Alan more firmly. "It's okay. Shh, shh, calm down."

_Surely not!_ Virgil thought. _Has he really been taking drugs? Is that what's been going on?_

As much as he wanted to deny it, all of Alan's symptoms pointed to an undesirable truth.

"Virgil!" Alan grasped Virgil's arms, gripping on to the sleeves of his uniform. "What's wrong?"

Virgil scanned Alan's eyes, trying to make sense of his brother's delirium. "I don't know, Alan. Tell me what's wrong."

Alan panted, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. "It's me," he mumbled. "I'm sorry! I was stupid. I didn't mean to hurt you. I have to go now."

It took a few seconds for Virgil to register what Alan had just said. But not before Alan pulled away and started running back the way he came.

"Alan!" Virgil took off in hot pursuit.

Alan quickly gained distance. Despite his disorientation, his legs seemed to work fine. _This could go on forever. In his state, Alan could hurt himself. _

Alan, however, paid no attention to such facts.

_Get away!_ The voice screamed at him as he ran down the steps into the pod. _They can't find out!_ Lost in thought, he followed his feet out of the pod and through the silo, heading into the lift. Slamming on hand on the controls, he stood back as the door closed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Post-shower, John was running a comb through his damp hair when someone knocked at his door.

"Come in!" he called, setting down the instrument.

He turned to see Fermat in his doorway. "Hey, Fermat. What can I do for you?" he smiled.

Fermat didn't return his smile. In fact, he looked very troubled. "John, I need your ad…ad…guidance."

John rested his hands on his hips. "Sure Fermat, come in."

Fermat nervously approached him. "I just r…r…bumped into Alan. Or rather he bumped into me."

John frowned at hearing Alan's name.

"He loo…loo…appeared to be unlike himself," Fermat went on. "He was acting very unusually."

"What do you mean?" asked John, his brotherly instincts kicking in.

Fermat bit his lip. "He appeared to be disorientated and f…f…scared. He didn't look too g…g…I think something's wrong. I don't know what to do."

John nodded. "Do you know where he is now?"

Fermat shook his head. "He's been acting w…w…strange for a few days now. Not that we've h…h…spent much time together lately, though."

John's frown deepened. "You haven't been working on your science project together at night, have you?"

Fermat looked confused. "No, only the other afternoon when Alan was b…b…why?"

_That's it_. _It's time I found out what's going on with the kid._ John put a hand on Fermat's shoulder. "Thanks, Fermat. Let me know if you see him."

The boy genius nodded and John hurried out and headed downstairs. A quick scan of the kitchen and family areas found no trace of his youngest brother.

John rethought his strategy. _If something's wrong, Alan would be trying to hide it, which means he'd be somewhere where other people are not going to bother him. _

_The beach? No. It could take ages to search there. Best start at the house_.

It was a long shot, but John decided to head down to the rear of the house. He was walking down the hall towards his father's office when suddenly the one he was looking for ran right into him. Both brothers fell in a tangled mess to the floor.

"Alan!" John cried as Alan feverishly tried to get up.

Without a word, his little brother took off down the hall. John followed him through to the kitchen, up the ramp and through the hallway.

"Alan!" he called again.

Ahead, Alan stumbled. It was all John needed to catch up.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently, taking Alan's arm.

Alan shook fiercely, panting as if he was drowning. His eyes were bloodshot. "Nothing," he croaked, pulling away and going into his room. "Not wrong. Got to…"

John followed him. "Alan, that's enough. Tell me what's wrong."

Alan kept walking, shaking his head. He went to his balcony. _Fresh air will help_, he thought. He missed the door handle twice before unsteadily sliding the door open.

"Alan."

John voiced echoed somewhere in the background. Gasping, Alan leaned on the balcony rail. _I'm gonna hurl._

John was about to follow Alan out when his watch beeped. He looked down to see that Virgil was hailing him. "Virg, I can't really talk right now," he said into the device.

"John, this is serious," Virgil said, sounding out of breath. "Have you seen Alan?"

"What's going on?" John asked, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Alan.

"Something's wrong with him. He's delusional and disorientated. He came looking for me in the silo and started hallucinating. Then he ran off," Virgil explained.

"What do you think it is?"

"Not sure. But I think he may have taken something."

John did a double take. "What? You mean drugs? Alan would never-"

"It explains too much for us to ignore it," Virgil interrupted. "John, we need to find him."

"He's with me," John again looked up to make sure Alan was okay. He frowned as Alan started to sway.

_It's okay. You're fine. Just get your breath back and you'll be fine_. Alan struggled to convince himself of that fact. A roaring sound rang in his ears and black spots danced in front of his eyes. He took deep breaths, praying for oxygen to save him. A sharp pain shot through his head. His body could no longer tell the difference between up and down. "John!" he tried to call, but his voice also refused to work. The whole world was swirling into blackness…

John realised what was happening a second too late. "Shit!" he cried. Ignoring Virgil's calls through the watch, he ran forward. He was too slow.

Alan collapsed onto the wooden decking with a sickening thud.

John ran out the door, skidding to a stop next his brother. "Alan?" he called, kneeling down and rolling his unconscious brother into the recovery position.

Alan did not stir.

John raised his watch to his face again, interrupting Virgil's bombardment of questions. "Virgil, get up to Alan's room, now!"

Cutting the connection, John turned his attention back to Alan, who still lay motionless on the floor. "Come on, Alan. Don't do this," he said, feeling for a pulse. The one he found was racing. He stroked Alan's cheek, beckoning Alan to wake up.

"John?"

John looked back at the sound of Virgil's voice. "Virgil! Out here!"

Virgil soon emerged through the balcony doors. Upon seeing Alan, he immediately slipped into doctor mode, kneeling down on Alan's other side.

"What happened?" he asked sternly, checking Alan's vitals.

John explained from the beginning. "Then he just collapsed."

"His pulse is racing. His temp's up," Virgil reported, looking up at John. "You're saying he didn't tell you anything?"

John shook his head.

"Did he hit his head when he fell?"

John thought. "I don't know. It's likely."

Virgil bent over Alan once again, gently tracing his fingers over Alan's head, searching for bumps or bleeding. His fingers stopped at the back of Alan's head. When he pulled his hand away, his fingers were coated in blood. Ignoring John's curse, he gently lifted Alan's eyelids to inspect his pupils. "He's reacting to light," he reported. "Let's get him to him infirmary."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"_Welcome back, Alan."_

_Alan steeled himself. _Go away!

_The Hood laughed. "You know, Alan. I'm impressed. Four days without sleep? I can only imagine how difficult it must have been. And all the while you were fiercely protecting your family. You Tracys are so predictable. But you lost in the end, Alan. Now your body's exhaustion will force you to remain here with me."_

_Alan tried to run, but something was wrong. He could no longer move. His whole body was frozen. The Hood chuckled. "Do not try to fight me. I am in complete control now."_

_The darkness rippled and suddenly Alan was swallowed by an ocean of icy water. The bitter cold felt like a thousand knives stabbing him all over his body. He instinctively gasped, and by doing so he sucked in a mouthful of water. The water was as cold inside him as it was outside. He couldn't breathe! _

Oh my God_, he realised. _This is real!


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone!**

**Hope you all had a happy christmas and new year! Sorry for the delayed update. Thank you so much for your reviews - I'm so glad you're enjoying this fic so far!**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 9**

"He's not breathing!"

Virgil rushed to Alan's bedside as alarms confirmed John's discovery. He looked up at the readings on the monitor next to Alan's bed. Alan's pulse was present, albeit fast. But the readings showed no respiratory movements.

Virgil didn't understand. He and John had taken Alan to the emergency room of the infirmary and, for a moment, all of Alan's vitals had practically returned to normal. Then, out of nowhere, they had gone crazy again.

With quick, practiced movements, Virgil unhooked the oxygen feed to the mask Alan was already wearing and produced a large yellow rubber bag. He attached it to the mask and began manually breathing for his brother. He looked up at John, who was standing helplessly at the side of the bed.

"John," he said sternly, getting the blonde's attention. "Can you bag him? I need to draw some blood and find out what he's taken."

John swiftly moved to the end of the bed behind Alan's head and took over. At that moment, Jeff burst into the room. At the look on his father's face, John almost wished he hadn't called him to the infirmary.

"John, what's happening? Why-"

Jeff stopped when he saw his youngest lying lifeless on the bed. He rushed to Alan's side, gripping the teenager's hand.

"Virgil?" he looked at the medic for an explanation.

"Dad, I know it sounds crazy," John said. "But we think Alan's taken something."

"It explains his behaviour," Virgil talked as he worked, pulling on a pair of gloves and prepping an empty syringe. "He's been moody, his physical condition has been deteriorating for days now, he's obviously not sleeping well, and he's been withdrawing from all of us."

John saw the look of shock and disbelief on his father's face. "Dad," he said gently. "It explains too much. We both know Alan's been having bad nightmares since he got home, maybe even before."

Virgil looked up from what he was doing with a frown. "What do you mean bad nightmares?"

"What if Alan thought that this was the only way to escape them?" John asked.

Jeff shook his head. "He wouldn't do that, John. He's smarter than that."

"I don't want to doubt him any more than you, Dad. We all know he's a good kid," John assured. "But maybe he's not completely recovered from spring break."

Jeff's mouth tightened and his eyes became steely. _Not Alan. Not my son. He would have come to one of us. Wouldn't he? Have I been too busy to notice? Did he think he couldn't talk to me?_

Raising his wrist, he hailed his other sons on his watch. "Scott, Gordon, get to the infirmary now."

He looked up at Virgil. "How long until we know?" he asked.

"A few minutes," Virgil assured as he finished. He looked up at the monitor worriedly. "How's he going?" he asked John.

John frowned. "Okay, for now. You get that blood sample analysed."

Virgil hurried away just as Scott and Gordon ran in.

"Alan!" Scott cried when he saw. "Dad, what's going on?"

John and Jeff relayed what had happened and their suspicions.

"That's crazy!" cried Gordon.

"It may be," agreed Jeff sternly. "But we need to be sure. You're brother's in a bad way and we can't think of another explanation."

As if he had heard his father mention him, Alan started to lurch.

Jeff turned and bellowed. "Virgil!"

John removed the mask and moved to let Virgil rush in to stand over Alan.

"Alan?" Virgil called.

Alan remained unconscious, but still convulsed. He started coughing harshly.

"It's like he's choking on something," Gordon said.

Virgil rolled Alan onto his side. "What the hell?" he cried when Alan started coughing up water.

"Where did that come from?" asked Scott.

"This isn't normal!" Virgil exclaimed. "No known substance would cause this and he hasn't been near any water since we got back from the rescue!"

"What the hell's going on?" asked Gordon as Alan vitals went berserk again.

"Tell us what to do, Virg," Scott sternly encouraged.

"I don't know what's causing this, Scott," Virgil replied as he struggled to stop Alan from rolling off the bed. "All we can do his prevent him from asphyxiating."

"I'm going to call a friend," Gordon declared. "He's a doctor at WASP. He might be able to give us an idea about what's happening where spontaneous drowning is concerned."

Jeff nodded as he helped Virgil steady Alan. "Go."

Gordon rushed out of the room.

Alan continued to gasp and choke, his body twisting into a fetal position. He was still coughing up water as if his lungs were filled with it.

"Scott, check on those blood samples, will you?" Virgil asked.

Scott nodded stiffly and left.

Only when he was gone did Virgil look up at his father. "Dad," he said, his voice cracking. "I don't know what to do."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_When Alan had reached his limit, the water suddenly disappeared. He was dry again and laying on the floor. His whole body shook, but at least he could breathe again__. _

"_It wasn't real," he told himself. "Whatever happens isn't real."_

"_Curious notion, Alan," the Hood cheerfully interjected. "I would have thought that all the time you spent researching dreams would have educated you about such things."_

"_What do you mean?" Alan asked. "You can't hurt me! You're just a dream!"_

_The Hood chuckled amusedly. "There are some who believe otherwise. Many believe that what happens in your mind can also happen to your body. It is this hypothesis I wish to put to the test. Did you know that if you die in your dreams, you die in real life, Alan?"_

"_You're lying," Alan's voice quivered nonetheless. _

"_Perhaps I can show you," said the Hood. _

_Once again, the scenery changed. _

_He was standing in the middle of a deserted alley at night. A lamppost behind him painted the brick walls in light and gave ghostly shadows places to lurk. Apart from a few trash cans and a row of stained blue dumpsters, Alan could see nothing. He didn't call out, sure that he didn't want to know if anybody was waiting for him here. When nobody emerged, he turned to look behind him. All he saw was the lamppost and an empty street. He turned back around and almost yelled in shock. Before him stood Mullion, looking as sinister and dark and Alan remembered him._

_He wore a malicious grin on his face. His eyes seemed to glow manically._

_Alan backed away. _

_Mullion stepped forward. "Not so tough when it's just you and me, are you?" he sneered._

_Alan swallowed as Mullion tightened his gloved fists. There was a sickening sort of feeling in his stomach that hinted what was about to happen. "Don't do this," he murmured._

_Mullion laughed. "Prepare to live your nightmare, boy."_

_With a growl he charged. Alan was able to dodge, his agility giving him an advantage. He ran to the other side of the alley which, conveniently for Mullion, was blocked by another brick wall. Alan turned again to face Mullion's infuriated look. The large man charged again. With the dumpsters and cans packed in this side of the alley, Alan realised he wouldn't have room to dodge again. The blockade inhibiting his escape plan provided another alternative however. He sprinted to the side and climbed up onto the nearest dumpster. Mullion gave a frustrated yell and tried to grab him as he ran across each one. Trying a new tactic, the henchman ran ahead, grabbed one of the dumpsters and tried to pick it up just as Alan reached it. Alan was thrown off balance and sent tumbling off. The solid pavement enthusiastically greeted the side of Alan's head. Alan struggled to get to his feet, but he was too slow. Mullion grabbed his shoulders, pulled him up, and punched him across the side of the head with such force Alan was surprised his neck didn't break. When Mullion released him, he fell to his hands and knees, seeing stars. _

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Quite suddenly, Alan stopped choking.

Virgil immediately checked his little brother's airways. "There's nothing there," he reported, amazed. "Alan, can you hear me?"

Alan remained unconscious.

Virgil looked up at the monitor. "His vitals are normal, albeit his heart rate is a little fast. It's as if nothing ever happened." He ran a hand through his chestnut hair. "I don't get it."

Jeff, who was wearing a permanent frown, rubbed Alan's arm. "At least he's breathing properly again," he pointed out.

The infirmary doors hissed open, announcing Gordon's return.

"Any luck?" asked Jeff.

Gordon shook his head. "According to my man there's no logical medical explanation for how someone could drown without coming into contact with water in last 24 hours," he explained. He looked down at Alan, frowning when he noticed his sibling's stillness. "What happened?" he asked, moving to stand on the other side of the bed behind Alan's back. He put a protective hand on Alan's shoulder.

"We have no idea," Virgil told him stoically. He frowned when Alan's heart rate climbed a bit.

"Virgil!"

Everybody looked at Scott as he hurried in from the lab holding piece of paper.

"What do blood results say?" Jeff asked his eldest.

Scott wore a worried expression. "I don't whether to be relieved or disturbed by this; Alan's blood is clean."

"What?" Virgil asked disbelievingly, snatching the paper from his brother's hand. His chocolate eyes scanned the results.

"There's nothing there," Scott elaborated. "Alan hasn't taken any drugs."

"What's causing this then?" asked John, who had been silently brooding for the past few minutes.

They all jumped when Alan suddenly flipped over onto his other side. Gordon and Scott had to jump to stop him rolling off the bed.

"Alan?" Virgil called, lifting Alan's head up. He gasped when he saw a large laceration on the side of Alan's head.

Scott bent to inspect the fresh wound. "That wasn't there before," he stated.

Suddenly Alan lurched again. It didn't appear he was simply struggling in his sleep. It was like he was being tossed by something.

"Alan?" John called. "Can you-"

Alan's head snapped around and their hopes rose. He did not, however, open his eyes or show any sign of waking.

"Shit!" John cursed when he saw a blue bruise growing on Alan's left temple. He showed Virgil.

"What the hell is happening?" Gordon yelled.

"Gordon!" Jeff snapped at his son's loss of control.

John cocked his head to more closely inspect the wounds. "It's like…" He frowned.

"Like what?" Scott asked.

Alan suddenly grunted and swiftly curled into a fetal position. With a soft moan he held up one hand against an invisible force. The other curled protectively around his abdomen. He kept flinching and lurching, gasping.

Scott tried to gently push Alan's waving arm back down, but his little brother refused to relax. He shot a frustrated look at his other blonde brother. "Like what, John?"

John shook his head, knowing that his theory was going to sound ridiculous. "It's like…he's being beaten."

Virgil stood above Alan's head, his own brows knitted. He nodded. "It sounds crazy, Dad. But I think John's observations are pretty accurate."

"How do you mean?" Jeff asked.

Virgil held the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "Look, I don't know how this is even possible, but the injuries Alan's somehow sustaining are consistent with those of physical abuse."

"How could he be beaten up in his sleep?" Gordon asked. "It's not possible!"

"Not possible, but clearly happening!" Virgil argued.

Gordon screwed up his face. "But if it's just a dream it's not real! How can it be real?"

John froze.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_Alan cried out as Mullion kicked him in the gut yet again. The hulking henchman's boots were steel capped and hence the equivalent of a sledgehammer, or so it felt. Concussed and compromised, Alan could only curl in on himself to try and ease the blows he received. He tried to muffle his grunts of pain._

How long is this going to go on?_ he thought despairingly._

_The realisation that nobody was going to help him renewed his stubborn determination. He lashed out as Mullion aimed another kick, grabbing the man's boot and pulling his leg. Mullion lost balance and hit the ground hard. It gave Alan the few precious seconds he needed to scramble to his feet and stumble back down the alley. He clutched his aching stomach as he searched for something to help him. He didn't hear Mullion come up behind him, which was startling considering Mullion wasn't exactly light of foot. Nevertheless he was picked up by the scruff of his shirt and thrown into the wall that blocked the other end of the alley. Alan's head hit the fall with a sickening thud. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he sagged against the bricks._

_Mullion picked him up off the floor and spun him around, delivering another blow to the jaw before pinning him up against the wall. Alan tasting blood, looked up at Mullion's rage-filled eyes as the man prepared to hit again. _

This is it_, he thought. _Will I wake up after this?

_Mullion raised his fist._

"_Stop."_

_Both Alan and Mullion looked around at hearing The Hood's commanding voice._

_Alan saw him first. The Hood materialised behind Mullion's left shoulder, smiling pleasantly._

_Alan threw him the worst look he could manage whilst he coughed on the blood that was trickling down his throat._

_It had an effect. _

"_Oh, Alan," The Hood smiled. "You should be grateful. Not many have lived through Mullion's blows. It appears I intervened just in time."_

"_Not real," Alan managed to splutter._

_The Hood chuckled, approaching him. "Oh Alan," he cooed. "I thought you'd learned your lesson by now. I sent Mullion with the hope of demonstrating how real dreams can be. Does it seem all pretend to you even now?"_

_He looked meaningfully towards Mullion, who held Alan up against the wall by his throat. Mullion smiled sadistically and squeezed._

_Alan choked. _

_The Hood inched closer. "Let me show you what I mean."_

_He placed a large gloved hand on Alan's head and immediately Alan was sucked out of the dream. _

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He could still feel Mullion's fingers closing around his throat, but he could also see his family above him. He was lying down…and he was in the infirmary. Everyone was arguing about something, but he couldn't quite focus on what it was. Everything seemed a little distorted, as if The Hood still held him in his grasp from the dream.

His father suddenly looked straight at him, eyes widening. "Alan? Virgil, he's awake!"

Virgil appeared behind Alan's head, cupping Alan's cheeks gently with both hands. "Alan, talk to me."

Alan tried, but all he could do was gasp and cough for air. He tried to grasp Mullion's arm and pull it away, but there was nothing there. And he yet still the life was being squeezed from him.

"Alan! What's wrong?" Scott called, holding his flailing hand.

"Virgil! Look at his neck!" Gordon pointed.

"Are they bruises?" Jeff asked incredulously.

Alan could feel his head beginning to swim again. Whether he was passing out from lack of oxygen or The Hood was pulling him back into the dream, he didn't know. But he knew he only had seconds to try and tell his family what was happening.

On his left, John stroked his hair. "Don't worry, Alan. We're going to help you."

Alan tried to force words through his constricted throat. "Hood!" he tried to gasp, but even he could recognise that nothing comprehensive was coming out.

An oxygen mask appeared over his face, which he tried to bat away.

"Alan, calm down. Look at me," Virgil told him.

For once, Alan ignored his brother's words of wisdom.

He sought out John again. The world once again tilted dangerously and he realised for the first time what The Hood wanted him to see. The bruises, the inability to breathe; all were symptoms from what was happening in his dream. They were appearing in reality too. The Hood was right; whatever was happening to him in the dream was happening to him physically. So if he died…His only hope was that his family worked out what was happening to him.

With his free hand, he sought out John's arm. When he found it, he gave it a hard squeeze. John's frown deepened as he leaned closer. "What is it?" he asked.

Alan tried to speak again, but the invisible hand squeezed and he choked.

Virgil frowned above him. "Alan, what is it? Why can't you breathe?"

Again the mask appeared, but Alan batted it away.

"No, son," Jeff held his flailing hand. "It'll help."

Alan let out a strangled cry as the mask was replaced. He squeezed John's arm harder still, looking at his older brother with imploring eyes.

John frowned. "Virgil, stop!" he cried, pulling the mask away. "He's trying to tell us something."

John's cool hand cupped Alan's cheek. "What is it?" he asked, leaning so that his nose was almost touching Alan's other cheek. "Tell me, Alan."

Alan's attempt to speak was interrupted by a dark wave rolling over him. The Hood was trying to pull him under again, he knew it. He could feel his grip on John's arm weakening. "Hood!" he cried, though it came out as only a whisper.

John's ice blue eyes met with his just as he lost consciousness.

**Cliffhanger much?**

**Let me know how soon you want to know what happens next!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Evil? Me? *Surprised scoff* I'm hurt! What's wrong with a cliffhanger?  
**

**But at least nobody's threatened to kill me ...yet.**

**Read, enjoy, REVIEW!**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 10**

_The Hood laughed, giving Alan a reprimanding look. "Alan," he smiled. "I always know I can count on your stubbornness. Trying to tell you family I am here won't help you. What can they do?"_

_He looked at Mullion. "Drop him."_

_Mullion reluctantly obeyed. Alan fell like a stone to the cold, hard floor._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott looked up at John. "What did he say?" he asked.

John shook his head. "I couldn't make it out."

Scott let out a harsh sigh. "So we're back where we started!"

"At least he doesn't appear to be having difficulty breathing," Virgil pointed out, though he replaced the oxygen mask for good measure.

"What do we do now?" asked Gordon.

The answers to these questions were lost to John, who stood stock still staring down at Alan. _What was trying to tell me? Why did he try to tell me over everyone else? What do I know that the others don't?_

The only thing he could think of was the other night, when Alan had had the migraine and lied about working on Fermat's project to hide it. Like a line of dominoes, other memories followed.

"_Last night was quiet," John reported, softly. It had become evident after a few nights that Alan was having nightmares._

"_You sleeping okay, sprout?" John asked softly._

_Alan exhaled, closing his eyes. "Stupid headache."_

"_Something really weird is going on."_

"_Are you sure there's nothing you want to talk about?"_

"_Alan, you look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."_

_John looked over his shoulder at his brother. "__Alan, keep a close eye on those magnetic readings."_

"_Sure," Alan replied. His eyes were unfocused and he appeared to be swaying._

"_ALAN!"_

_John frowned as he watched his little brother. Alan was shaking under his hand. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His eyes, underlined with black circles, filled with tears._

"_Alan, what happened?" John__ asked softly. "You didn't even look at us when we called you. It was like you were on another planet."_

"_I don't need to rest," Alan__ argued, avoiding John's eyes._

"_From where I'm standing, it doesn't look that way," John said softly. He approached Alan, studying his little brother's face. "Alan, when was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" Alan didn't reply._

_John rubbed his brother's arm. "Are you having nightmares again?"_

"_He loo…loo…appeared to be unlike himself," Fermat said. "He was acting very unusually."_

"_What do you mean?"._

"_He appeared to be disorientated and f…f…scared. He didn't look too g…g…I think something's wrong."_

_Alan shook fiercely, panting as if he'd been running a marathon. His eyes were bloodshot._

"_Something's wrong with him. He's delusional and disorientated. He came looking for me in the silo and started hallucinating."_

_Alan collapsed onto the wooden decking with a sickening thud._

_Alan wasn't sleeping,_ John realised. _That's why he was so tired. That's why he was so disorientated and couldn't focus. He pushed himself too far. Why wouldn't he be sleeping? Nightmares? He's had nightmares before. Why didn't he talk to us about it? Did he stay awake to avoid the nightmares?_

At first John thought he was going around in circles, but the more he concentrated, the more things seemed to click into place.

_What could have made the nightmares so bad? What was he dreaming about? _

The only thing John could think of was The Hood_. It's most likely he was dreaming about The Hood,_ he decided. _But why didn't he talk about it? After everything we've gone through together. After all of the talks we've had…Why would he hide it from us?_

He looked up. "Has Alan said anything to any of you about The Hood since he's been home?" he asked.

Everyone looked at him suspiciously.

"Anything?" John prompted.

Scott shook his head. "Not to me."

Gordon agreed. "Not for ages."

John was about to look at his father for an answer when he caught Virgil bowing his head. "Virg?" he asked.

Virgil looked up. "When Alan was bitten by the spider," he nodded. "He was disorientated. He mentioned something about The Hood. He asked me if I ever have dreams about him."

"Why did he ask you that?" John questioned.

Virgil shrugged. "I just thought it was a result of the fever. He said it was like The Hood was inside his head, that The Hood wanted him to suffer."

"The nightmares," John realised aloud.

Scott frowned. "What?"

John looked at his father meaningfully. "Dad, we know he's been having nightmares."

He looked back at Alan. _He was afraid he'd see The Hood again if he went to sleep. If the Hood was in his head…_

"Wait," John held up a hand to slow his own train of thought. He couldn't miss anything. "He was dreaming about The Hood, so he stopped sleeping so that he wouldn't have the nightmares," he thought aloud. "If The Hood was in his head, he'd be telling Alan's things, threatening him…with us."

John's eyes widened as he looked up at the confused faces of his family. "The only thing that The Hood could threaten Alan with is us! That's why Alan didn't tell us! Maybe he thought he was protecting us somehow, or maybe he didn't want us to know what he was seeing."

"You're saying that he was dreaming about The Hood hurting us?" Jeff asked.

"It's likely," John replied.

Virgil held up a hand. "Wait, Dad. Do you remember? In the infirmary when Alan woke up, he was shouting for Fermat."

Jeff nodded sternly. "He thought that Fermat had been hurt. He said he'd seen it happen."

"So if The Hood is making Alan see these things, what has that got to do with what's happening now?" asked Gordon. "Why is Alan trying to suffocate himself in his sleep?"

John looked up at Jeff. "I don't think it's Alan who is doing this. If Alan was so exhausted that he collapsed, his body is keeping him unconscious, giving The Hood the perfect opportunity."

"Opportunity to do what?" Scott asked.

"To finish it," Jeff answered.

Gordon ran a hand through his short hair. "Whoa, slow down!" he said. "Are you thinking that The Hood is doing this? That's impossible!"

"Not necessarily," Scott pointed out, his eyebrows knitting together as he cottoned on. "The Hood's always had a knack for mind games. Dad and Alan both said that he had some kind of mind powers. Maybe he's using them to get to Alan."

"Through his dreams," Virgil added. "This is serious. There have been a lot of medical case studies on dreaming and about how what we experience mentally can affect us physically."

"So The Hood is hurting Alan in his dreams?" Gordon folded his arms.

"Gordon, think about it!" Virgil snapped. "What was it we said earlier? The bruises, the choking…It looked like Alan was being beaten. What if he was?"

"But if he's being beaten and it's showing on his body," Scott said. "What if The Hood kills him in his dreams?"

"I think it's evident what will happen," Jeff said.

"We have to stop him!" Gordon cried. "Fast!"

Jeff stood up, in action mode. "I'm going to call Wakefield Prison. We have to stop him and there's not enough time for us to get to England. Call me the moment Alan's condition changes!"

He rushed out of the room, leaving the boys alone together.

Gordon gripped Alan's calf. "Why didn't he tell us?" he asked softly, echoing all of their thoughts.

Scott looked at Alan grimly. The teenager's face exuded calmness, hiding whatever was going on inside his head. "He would have been terrified," he replied.

"If The Hood told him he was going to hurt us, Alan would have tried to protect us," John softly told them.

Gordon let out a ragged breath, rubbing Alan's leg. "God, sprout," he moaned. "Why did you have to be so much like us?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"_You Tracy__s are so predictable," The Hood mused as he slowly paced in front of Alan._

_Mullion had disappeared at some point but they were still in the alley. The cold brick wall against Alan's back confirmed that. _

"_You try so hard to be the hero, to take the fall for each other," The Hood smiled and bent down to bring his face level with Alan's. "It's always a waste, Alan."_

_Alan tried not to look away, stubbornly holding eye contact to give the impression he wasn't scared. It was all over. He hadn't been able to warn his family in time. He knew they couldn't help him. He knew he was going to die. "So what are you waiting for?" he asked with a gravely voice. "You've had your fun. If I'm going to die, at least spare me the monologuing."_

_The Hood's eyes hardened. "As you wish."_

_Alan felt a familiar tug at his naval as the alley disappeared in a whirl of colour. He looked around to see him in a very familiar place. "The Bank of London," he murmured. "How original."_

_He was standing on the platform from which The Hood had tried to kill him during Spring Break. Below him, The Mole sat lifelessly on the ground. Its diamond coated edges waited soundlessly to receive him._

_Alan tensed as The Hood put a gloved hand on his shoulder._

"_I thought it would be nice if everything ended where it should have ended all those weeks ago," the older man murmured in his ear._

_Alan could feel tears pricking his eyes. He wasn't sad to die for his family and friends. But that didn't mean he wasn't scared. "Then why don't I make it easy for you?" he asked. "If you promise to leave my family and my friends alone, I'll do it myself."_

_The Hood chuckled in his ear, squeezing his shoulder. "The perfect ending," he agreed. "One Tracy sacrifices himself for the others. I won't need to hurt your family and friends, Alan. What happens to you will be enough to give me my revenge and reassure me that from this day forward, your family will be in ruins and the Thunderbirds will meet their end."_

He's right_, Alan realised. _Dad won't survive another loss like Mum. He'll think it was his fault and that International Rescue was the cause of it all. He'll shut it down and they'll be nobody to save those who need saving. I can't let that happen!

_All intent to submit to his captor's intention disappeared. He had to find a way of telling his family what was happening. There was so much more at stake than just his own life. The lives of many more depended on him. He tried to make sure that the expression of submission on his face remained the same_. If I can't tell my family what's going on_, he thought. _I'll have to show them_._

"_And if I die here, I'll die in reality?" he confirmed._

"_I can guarantee it," The Hood replied._

"_And whatever happens to me will happen in reality?"_

"_Yes."_

_It was a gamble, but he had to try. "Okay," he murmured, centred his concentration on one action. He took one step forward._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you certain about this?"

Jeff bit back the growl that threatened to escape. "You are very aware of the abilities of this prisoner, Captain," he argued. "However logic may not support it, it is very clear that his abilities are real and that they are placing the lives of one of my men in serious danger. The Hood must be subdued immediately."

"Okay, sir," the head guard at Wakefield relented. "I'll send a man down to his cell. But just know that the only reason I'm doing this is because you're the Thunderbirds. If this turns out to be a hoax, you'll be joining the menace in his cell."

"This is no hoax," Jeff stated.

"Stay on the line," the guard told him gruffly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott sighed, head in his hands.

It had been nearly nine minutes since Alan had last reacted. The waiting for the inevitable was testing Scott.

Virgil monitored Alan closely, alert for the slightest change. Alan's blood ox levels were back up, but his pulse was still too fast.

Scott looked up at Alan and gripped his little brother's hand. _What's happening to you, sprout?_

_Why didn't I notice that something was wrong? Why didn't I talk to you more?_

"Scott, stop it."

Scott looked at John to see the astronaut regarding him with knowing eyes.

"Stop what?" Scott asked, looking back to Alan.

"Stop beating yourself up," John replied sternly. "None of us thought this was possible. There's no way we could have noticed-"

"We _should_ have noticed!" Scott cut him off. "He's our brother, for God's sake! Why didn't we notice?"

"We did notice," Gordon added quietly. "We just didn't think it was anything like this."

Scott snorted, but bit back his harsh response. Instead he just murmured. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Of course it matters, Scott," John argued softly. "Alan obviously hasn't given up hope on us. He tried to warn us. He knows we're here for him."

"I just thought that," Scott cleared his throat when his voice wobbled slightly. "I thought that after everything that's happened, it'd be better, you know? We came so close to losing him and…"

His voice faltered again and he gave up.

Virgil watched as the pilot's sapphire blue eyes glassed over. "We're not going to lose him," he assured. "Alan's beaten The Hood once, he'll do it again, and we'll be there for him."

"You don't get it," Scott whispered, looking up at Virgil. "We have to…I have to…"

Virgil gripped Scott's arm.

Suddenly Alan shifted. Immediately, they jumped into action stations.

"Alan?" Scott called, squeezing his brother's hand.

"Alan, can you hear me?" Virgil asked, removing the oxygen mask.

"Wait," John murmured. They all stopped.

Alan eyes were still closed.

"He can't hear us," John realised. "He's still asleep."

Suddenly Alan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Alan," Virgil called warily as the boy stood up.

"What's happening?" Scott rushed around the side of the bed as Alan began walking to the door.

Gordon leapt forward also, gripping Alan by the shoulders. "Come on, Al! Wake up!"

"No!" Virgil pulled the aquanaut away. "Never wake someone when they're sleepwalking."

"What else do we do?" asked Gordon.

Scott kept his eyes locked on his youngest brother. "Go and see how Dad's doing. He needs to know what's happening," he instructed calmly. "Now!" he commanded when Gordon didn't move.

Gordon hurried out of the infirmary. Alan followed him out of the door. Scott, John, and Virgil stayed at his heels.

"Where is he going?" John asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_Alan walked along the metal balcony, closer to the edge. He could feel The Hood's gaze behind him. He hoped the man wouldn't clue in to what he was doing. _

Come on, guys!_ he thought. _Can you see what I'm doing?

_He realised he'd let his concentration slip._

No!_ he gasped._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The three brothers stopped when Alan suddenly halted in the middle of the hallway.

"What's he doing?" Scott wondered aloud.

"Master Scott?"

"Kyrano, stay back!" John held up a hand when their manservant appeared.

"I ran into Master Gordon on his way to the office," Kyrano explained. "I thought maybe I could help."

"You know how to stop this?" Virgil asked.

"My half brother's powers are a mystery to us all," their friend replied. "But I do know someone who might know how to stop him."

"Who?" asked Scott, who stood with his hands up ready to catch Alan if he suddenly collapsed.

"Tintin!" John clicked his fingers.

"She's in England with Lady Penelope," Virgil reminded them.

"Let's hope they're both in," John nodded and he took off with Kyrano down the hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Focus, _Alan told himself, planting one foot deliberately in front of the other. Suddenly the floor beneath him flickered and he stopped, wobbling to retain his balance._

_The Hood chuckled behind him. "Very amusing, Alan!"_

_Alan turned to see The Hood grinning ecstatically at him. _

"_You really thought I wouldn't notice?" The Hood appeared at his side like a ghost, placing a hand around Alan's throat. "I control your dreams, Alan," he warned menacingly. "And I will show you just how helpless you are."_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Alan?" Scott called softly when Alan started moving again.

Both he and Virgil jumped with arms open when Alan suddenly wobbled, but their little brother didn't fall.

"Okay," Virgil murmured unsurely.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alan was sucked out of the dream again. He was standing in the hallway of the house leading from the infirmary. He was also aware of two figures standing on either side of him. He gasped as feeling returned to his whole body.

"Alan?" he heard Virgil murmured to his left. Well, he thought he did. It was hard to tell. Everything was sort of fuzzy. The corners of his vision were blurred.

"_Don't worry, Alan," The Hood told him. "I'm still here."_

Alan's breathing quickened as his foot moved without him wanting it too. _No!_ he thought when he realised that it wasn't he who had moved it.

Scott appeared in front of him, cupping his cheeks and gazing at him intently. "Alan, are you with us?" he called.

Alan wanted so desperately to tell his brother what was happening.

"_Silence," The Hood ordered him._

And without hesitation, his body obeyed. He couldn't speak.

Scott stroked his cheek to prompt him. "Alan," he frowned.

"_Run, Alan," The Hood said. "Run!"_

He was suddenly moving. His legs were propelling him down the hallway, up the ramp, and down the upstairs hall. And he could do nothing to stop himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi everyone! **

**I'm back albeit a little late (*looks shamefully down at her feet*) with a chapter to save you from my cliffhanger...and possibly give you another?? You'll have to read more to find out! (*Evil grin*)**

**This chapter has a lot of scene changes, and I have been having a few troubles with page breaks/*~*~*~*~*/TBTBTBTB's to separate each one, so I apologise if a couple misbehave!**

**Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing!**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 11**

Tintin had been enjoying a much needed bubble bath when Parker had urgently called her to the drawing room. Pulling on her bathrobe, she'd quickly followed him to the room, where Penelope was sitting at the radio. Her beautiful face was wearing an expression of horror.

"John?" Tintin frowned when she saw the astronaut's face on the screen. He was accompanied by another. "Dad?"

"Hello sweetheart," her father greeted. He appeared very worried.

"Tintin, I need you to listen very carefully," John told her sternly.

It was unusual for John to frown, so Tintin paid attention. "What's going on?"

"We need your help," John said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"What do you mean the door's jammed?" Jeff practically bellowed into the radio. If the man on the other end had been able to see Jeff's face, he would have been terrified. Unfortunately, Jeff had turned off the visual connection to protect his identity, so he had to rely on his voice to convey his frustration.

"We can't explain it, sir," the guard replied. "My men just can't get the door of the prisoner's cell open. It's like something's jamming it!"

"How?" Jeff asked.

"Our doors are normally controlled by an automated security system. We tried overriding it to unlock the cell, but it won't work."

Jeff fumed. _If I had a dollar for every time something went wrong as a result of an automated system…._

"If it's an automated system, then whatever is overriding it has to be mechanical also," he said. "I need you to check the cell door and the main terminal for a device that could be causing the problem."

"Who could have planted something like that in here?" the guard asked, scoffing. "Nobody gets in or out of here without being thoroughly checked, not to mention the amount of paperwork and identification protocol."

Jeff suddenly had a thought. "Maybe somebody didn't need to get in or out of the prison to plant the device," he said. "It's possible somebody capable of making it was already inside. The Hood had a woman called Transom working with him in the attack against our base. She has a knack for engineering."

"I'll check her status and have my men take a look around," the guard said.

"Hurry!" Jeff urged.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott and Virgil barely had time to blink before Alan suddenly took off.

They immediately ran after him, their initial pause from shock granting Alan a head start.

"Alan!" Scott called.

They stopped when they reached the kitchen and living area.

"Did he go upstairs?" Scott wondered aloud.

"What if he ran outside?" Virgil countered.

Scott sighed. "You check outside. I'll take the upstairs."

Scott ran up the ramp but saw nobody in the hall when he got there. He began checking the bedrooms. "Alan?" he called. He didn't know why he expected to hear a reply. He reached Alan's room, checked the bathroom, but couldn't find his brother. He was about to leave when something caught his eye. The balcony door was open and through the partly closed curtains he could see a figure standing outside.

"Alan?" he called, going outside.

He stopped abruptly when he saw Alan properly. His little brother had somehow climbed over the railing and was standing on the edge of the balcony, holding the railing with one hand.

Scott held out a hand and slowly stepped forward. "Alan, can you hear me?"

Alan didn't turn. He remained still, looking at the ground far below.

"Alan, what are you doing?" asked Scott.

Alan's hand shifted on the railing and suddenly Scott realised.

_Oh God. He's going to jump._

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
_

Alan could barely see the ground below him, but he knew it was there. And, more importantly, he knew he was about to join it. His balcony hung over a cliff that dropped down into the jungle below. There was no way he would survive the fall.

_Stop_, he begged.

The Hood laughed_. "I warned you Alan," _he said_. "You're all alone and about to die. But don't worry. I'm sure it will be quick."_

Alan tried to focus all his energy on keeping the hand that was clasped around the balcony railing from releasing its grip. The darkness peeking around the edges of his vision was making it difficult to focus. It was like he was in his own version of Wonderland. His body was still in his dream. The Hood was still in his dream, controlling his body. But his mind was teetering on the edge, aware of both dreaming and reality. It was so much to process and the sensation was terrifying. He could feel himself shaking. _But am I shaking in my dream or reality?_ he wondered despairingly. It didn't matter. He was all alone and he was about to die.

"_Alan."_

_Shut up__, _he thought.

"_Alan." _

The voice was recognisable, but it wasn't The Hood's.

"_Alan, listen to me. You have to wake up."_

_Scott?_

"_Snap out of it, buddy. You're stronger than he is!"_

_He's making me listen__, _he realised_. He wants to remind me just how close Scott is. He wants to make me feel helpless.__  
_

_And it was working. Alan would have screwed up his eyes if The Hood had let him. _Scott, help me!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Tintin?"

Tintin looked up at John, realising she'd spaced out. "I can't," she said. "I don't know how. My powers are nowhere near as strong as his."

"It is inside you, sweetheart," Kyrano encouraged. He always knew how to inspire her, but Tintin wasn't certain he would be successful this time.

"Tintin, I wish I didn't have to ask you to face your uncle," John told her. His pale eyes were honest and caring as always. ""But Alan is going to die if we don't do something soon. Dad's trying to have him subdued in prison, but according to Gordon they're having problems opening the door. You're the only one who can do this, honey."

Tintin felt her eyes filling with tears at the thought of her best friend's suffering. _Alan. I don't know what to do._

She looked down. _What would Alan do?_ She heard a voice ask her. _If you were in trouble, what would he do?_

_He'd try to help, no matter the danger_, she answered herself.

She looked up. "Okay. I'll try."

Lady Penelope put a gentle hand on her arm. "We're here for you," she said, entwining her fingers in Tintin's.

"Focus, sweetheart," Kyrano encouraged.

Tintin grasped at her necklace to hold the quartz stone that hung from it. She closed her eyes and focused.

_Alan. _

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
_

"_Alan"._

_By now Alan was growing frustrated with all the voices he could hear._

"_Alan, it's okay. I'm here."_

Tintin?

_The Hood laughed. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Another hero trying to save the day. Such a waste."_

_Alan began to lose focus again. The Hood's words seemed to cut a hole into his stomach and fill him with fear and doubt. _

"_Stop it, Alan!"_

_Alan could see her now. He could see her face, even though he knew she wasn't actually there. _She's so beautiful_, he thought. _Why didn't I ever tell her that?

"_Alan! Snap out of it! You have to focus."_

_He shook himself out of his stupor, focusing once more on gripping the railing with his hand._

"_Just hang on. We've almost got him," Tintin told him._

_The Hood laughed. "It's too late to stop me, my dear."_

_It was like an emotional game of ping-pong inside Alan's head, each argument was equally convincing._

No_, Alan gritted his teeth. _I'm not going to die.

_The Hood smiled. "What do you say we loosen that grip of yours, Alan?"_

_Alan felt his fingers loosen. _No!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"We've found it, sir!"

Jeff momentarily recovered from the heart attack he was having.

"The woman managed to attach it to the main terminal. Once we get the sucker off, we'll bust that door wide open."

Jeff frowned as he opened a new line and punched in a communications code.

"Dad, what is it?" Virgil immediately responded.

"I need a status report. How's Alan?" Jeff asked. "Gordon said he was sleepwalking."

"He was," Virgil panted.

Jeff frowned at how exhausted his son sounded. "What's going on?"

"We don't know, Dad. Alan suddenly stopped in the middle of the hall. At first we thought he had woken up, but then he just took off. Scott went upstairs and I'm looking outside."

"You lost him?" Jeff could keep the anger out of his voice.

Virgil gave a harsh sigh. "Hopefully Scott's had more luck."

Jeff immediately opened another link, creating a three-way line. "Scott, this is your father. Where are you?"

There was no reply.

"Scott!"

"Don't shout, Dad." Scott's voice was soft through the mike. "You might startle him."

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.

"Alan," Scott explained. "He's on his balcony."

"Hold on. I'm on my way up," Virgil told his brother.

"Dad, what's happening with The Hood?" Scott asked, sounding worried.

"Transom managed to jam the door of his cell, so the guards haven't been able to reach him. They've just found the device and are going to remove it. John, Gordon and Kyrano are on the other line with Tintin. She's using what power she has to try and give Alan some time," Jeff recounted. "Where is he, Scott? What's wrong? You said he was on his balcony."

"He's not on the balcony, Dad. He's hanging from the railing," Scott said. "He's going to jump. I can't grab him because it's too dangerous. We can't wake him abruptly if he's sleepwalking, and if he struggles he could slip."

Jeff's first thought was to charge upstairs to his son's side, but he knew he couldn't leave his post.

He reopened the link to the prison. "Captain, give me a status report!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Every inch of him was screaming to move, to rush forward and pull his little brother to safety. But he couldn't. He could only stand and watch helplessly as Alan prepared to jump.

_How can I get through to him? _He thought desperately_. How can I make him wake up without hurting him?_

"Alan," he tried calling yet again. And yet again he received no response.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Captain Gregory Thomas had seen some strange things. It came with his job description as Head of Security at Wakefield Prison. The hardened murderers, serial rapists, convicted terrorists; they were all housed under one roof. Gregory had learned to remove himself completely from the happenings at work.

But this one was starting to freak him out.

Belagant had been a special case from the moment he arrived at Wakefield. The man was a freak; to be confined at all times. Rumours were constantly circulating about the man with mind powers. Gregory had, as usual, ignored such nonsense. He just obeyed orders, did what he was told, and kept his mouth shut.

"_The man tried to murder the Thunderbirds and rob the Bank of London. He has a criminal record as long as your arm and has been declared an international terrorist. Nobody visits him, nobody speaks to him, and under no circumstances is he to be released."_

Those were the orders. They were simple and not to be questioned.

So why was he trying so hard to open the door of the cell containing this so called "international terrorist"?

At first he'd thought it to be a hoax. But confirmation from his sources, including the British Government itself, had verified that the claims were justified. International Rescue. He couldn't believe it. Belagant, or The Hood, as the Thunderbird chief has called him, was posing a direct threat to one of the organisation's operatives. How that was possible, Gregory didn't know. All that mattered was that he had a new order: subdue Belagant by any means necessary.

"Autolock disabled, sir," one of his technicians reported through the radio he was holding.

"Copy that," Gregory replied stiffly. He nodded to one of the five guards who were with him outside The Hood's cell. "Get it open."

It took two men to get the heavy metal door open. The rest trained their weapons on the room. They certainly didn't expect to see what they saw. The Hood was lying on his bed, apparently asleep. For a moment Gregory doubted what he had been told. A sleeping codger was attacking a Thunderbird?

He took three careful steps into the room, keeping his gun firmly aimed at the sleeping felon. "Belagant," he called roughly, kicking the bed. "On your feet!"

The Hood didn't move. Gregory leaned closer to inspect him. It was then he realised The Hood was smiling.

"What the hell?" Gregory murmured. He jumped back when Belagant suddenly opened his eyes. They were red.

The Hood looked directly at him. "How nice of you to join us," he said simply.

Gregory raised his gun. "Playtime's over, you crazy son of a bitch."

He fired.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"_You've always wanted to fly like a Thunderbird, Alan," The Hood smiled. "I'm granting you that wish and-"_

_The Hood looked up. His brow creased, as if he was confused. Then suddenly his eyes widened. "No!" he yelled._

_It was like a vacuum sucking everything away. Alan gasped when The Hood suddenly vanished. He screamed as a blinding pain shot through his head._

"_Hold on, Alan!" Tintin called from somewhere far away._

_Darkness was approaching him like a giant wave. There was nothing he could do. He was once again sucked into unconsciousness. His hand slipped from the railing and he was falling._

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
_

Tintin gasped as she returned to Lady Penelope's drawing room.

"It's alright," Penny soothed, wrapping a slender arm around her shoulders.

Tintin released her necklace, holding her hand to her throbbing head.

"What happened, Tintin?" John asked. "Are you alright?"

Tintin felt her eyes filling with tears. She had been pulled out of Alan's head before she could do anything more to help. She'd felt Alan's mind sinking into oblivion. She'd seen his hand drop from the railing…

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"Tintin, what did you see?" asked Penelope.

Tintin looked down as the tears escaped, her heart aching. "Alan."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The moment Scott had heard Alan scream in pain, his instincts had taken over. Rationality be damned, he ran forward


	12. Chapter 12

**OMG! You guys are awesome! Despite the fact that your latest reviews contained the word "evil" way too many times (an accusation which I stubbornly deny to be true! :P ) they made my week!**

**This chapter brings the end of the climax and the beginning of the picking up of the pieces. I hope you enjoy!**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 12 **

Alan awoke gasping for breath. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and his entire body shook violently. It was real. It couldn't have been a dream. Was he dead? He couldn't see anything. But he could feel something. Something was wrapping itself around him, holding him tightly.

_Oh God_, he thought_. Not again. Hasn't he had enough?_

Was he being crushed? What was squeezing him? It felt like he was being smothered by a python. He struggled, trying to pull himself out of the python's grip.

"Shhh," he heard a voice hush gently. "It's okay, Alan. I'm here. You're safe."

He realised that the python was actually a pair of arms pulling him against a warm body. Who else was there? Why were they here? Didn't they know The Hood would kill them?

"No," he choked_. The Hood! Don't let him get them too_!

Everything was a blurred mess but he could see a solid shape swimming in above him.

_It's still a dream_, he realised. The Hood must still in his head. He struggled, no longer worried about who it was that had stumbled into his dream. He just had to get away.

The other person didn't seem to get it. "Shhh. It's alright, sprout. I've got you."

Alan frowned. _Sprout? Why would The Hood call me that?_

A thumb that presumably belonged to the hand holding his face began stroking his cheek.

"Come on, Alan," the voice pleaded. "Wake up."

Despite how much it pained Scott to watch Alan struggle, nothing was going to convince him to release his little brother. _Not this time,_ he promised. _Not after how close I came to losing him again. _

He'd barely made it in time to grab Alan around the chest and lift him over the balcony railing. His legs, which felt like they had turned to jelly, had forced him to sit cross-legged on the wooden deck. It was the first opportunity Scott had been given to examine his brother. Alan was a mess. The blood on the side of his head had dried, but was accompanied by many blue bruises and the cut still looked nasty. Scott could only hope there were no serious injuries, but he couldn't be certain. It was another reason for his determination to quiet the panicked teen. "Wake up, Alan!" he called a little more forcefully.

_I can't wake up! The Hood won't let me!_, Alan wanted to say. He blinked, trying to banish the fog that prevented him from seeing properly. He felt like he was being suffocated. The fog around him prodded his face. But it seemed to be lifting. With each blink, the smoke was clearing. Blurred shapes became recognisable objects.

_If I can see_, he thought, hopes rising. _Maybe it means…_

A cool hand carefully held the side of his sore head. With a strangled gasp, Alan wrenched open his eyes could make out someone above him. That definitely looked like an arm…The hand holding his face was suddenly removed and something cupped his chin, forcing his head up.

As much as he appreciated the cool, fresh air he received as a result of the movement, Alan cringed_. That hurt_, he winced. In fact, everything was starting to hurt. The side of his face was tender and his stomach throbbed.

"Alan, look at me," the person above him commanded.

Alan blinked and Scott's face came in focus. His brother was cradling him in his lap, glaring down at him. Alan had never seen his eldest brother so worried. _What did I do this time? I must have screwed up something up again. Is he mad? Oh God, nobody's hurt are they?_

He moved to sit up, but Scott held him tighter. "Easy kiddo. Just relax. I've got you."

Alan let himself go limp, but grabbed Scott's shirt with one hand just to make sure his brother was real.

Scott's arm around his shoulders gave him a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," he murmured.

"The Hood!" Alan croaked, suddenly remembering. _They have to know! I have to tell them!_

Scott hushed him, pulling him closer. "He's gone. You're safe."

Alan reached up and wrapped an arm around Scott's neck, clinging tightly to his brother in fear of being sucked back into the dream. Scott returned the hug tightly, sending up a silent prayer of thanks.

"Alan!" another familiar voice called, making Alan jump.

"Take it easy," Scott murmured to him.

Another hand touched Alan's back and he immediately flinched.

"It's ok, sprout. I won't hurt you," the new voice assured him.

Recognition suddenly clicked in Alan's head. "Virgil?" he mumbled into Scott's chest.

The hand rubbed his back. "I'm here," Virgil confirmed.

Alan pulled his arm from around Scott's neck and twisted around to look at his other brother. Pain shooting through his torso made him stop with a wince.

Virgil and Scott quickly and carefully lay him down on the floor. Alan maintained a strong grip on Scott's wrist just to make sure he didn't disappear. Scott gently pried Alan's hand away and held it in his own.

"Just relax, Alan," Virgil soothed. "Try to stay still."

"Alan!"

"Oh God!"

"Hey!"

Alan frowned, only capable to identify one of the three new voices. "Dad?"

Jeff immediately appeared above him, followed by John and Gordon.

The Tracy patriarch gripped his son's shoulder tightly with one hand and held Alan's cheek with the other. Alan guessed his vision was still a little fuzzy, because he thought he saw his father's eyes glistening.

"Are you okay?" Jeff asked him.

Alan could only frown. The edges of his vision were getting fuzzy again and he was finding it hard to concentrate. _Why wouldn't I be okay? What happened? I'll think about it later. I want to sleep._

"Ow," he moaned when his head throbbed again.

"What hurts, Alan?"

"Sprout, can you hear me?"

Someone shook him, causing him to groan in protest. "Head hurts," he mumbled.

"I think it's an effect of the dream," he heard John say. "Tintin has a bad headache too."

_And the brick wall_, Alan thought, remembering Mullion throwing him in the alley. _Don't forget the brick wall._

"He's exhausted," Jeff said as he watched Alan's eyelids slip. "Get him to the infirmary. John, call Lady Penelope and ask her to bring Tintin to the island. It may be wise if she was examined as well, and I have no doubt she'll want to see Alan."

John nodded stiffly, giving Alan's hand a squeeze before he left. Alan saw a blur of platinum blonde hair and realised what it meant. "No," he gasped. "Don't…John." He wanted John. He wanted to apologise for lying to him. He wanted to tell John that he understood what it felt like to be alone with the demons. It was so important to him. He tried to sit up, but was immediately stilled by four pairs of hands and reprimanded by four sychronised voices. A wave of dizziness passed over him and it was a symptom he both recognised and dreaded.

"No!" he squeezed Scott's hand. "Don't wanna…"

Scott leaned closer. "What is it, Alan?"

Virgil expertly pressed two fingers under Alan's jaw, frowning when he felt an erratic flutter beneath the skin. "Alan." He focused on Alan's blue eyes until he received his brother's full attention. "Don't panic. You can sleep now."

Alan's eyes widened at the dreaded word and he immediately started to shake his head. "No!" he protested weakly, though it was clear from the way his voice slurred how much he really needed it.

Scott gently held the side of his head, looking down at him. "It's safe," he assured his brother. "I promise I won't let him get you. I'll be right here."

The vow had always worked when Alan had ever experienced a bad dream.

"You promise?" Alan's eyes, however unfocused, sought his face.

Scott gently lifted his brother, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and slipping another under his knees. "I promise," he murmured, pulling Alan close.

_I hope_, he prayed when Alan went limp in his arms.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gregory lowered his gun, proudly inspecting his marksmanship. The hypo he'd sent thudding into The Hood's carotid artery had enough sedative to knock a fully grown elephant off its feet. He lifted one of The Hood's eyelids and nodded with satisfaction when he saw that the irises were no longer red. He nodded to his men. "You know what to do," he said, striding out of the cell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Fermat had never run so fast in his life, and that was saying something for the asthmatic genius. He sped through the halls with guilt bobbing like a stone in his stomach.

Alan was right. Alan had been right all along. He'd been so caught up in his schoolwork, so determined to prove himself, he'd almost lost his best friend without even knowing it. He'd let himself become so distracted with his spider project, he'd barely even heard Gordon rapping his knuckles softly on the bedroom door. The cheeky trickster's face had been blanched with an uncharacteristic solemn expression. Silently and without invitation, Gordon had walked in, gently nudging Fermat and sitting with him on the bed. He had then proceeded to tell Fermat that Alan had been having bad dreams created by The Hood, and that The Hood had just tried to use those dreams to kill Alan.

Feeling a stutter coming on, Fermat hadn't bothered to ascertain the details. He'd taken off towards the sickbay, at which entrance he now stood nervously wringing his hands. He began pacing uncertainly outside the door.

_I let him down_, he thought sadly. _I was so caught up in my assignment that I didn't spend any time with him! He wanted to hang out with me. Was he trying to tell me all along? Did I miss something? What kind of a friend am I?_

"Oof!" His panicked train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he walked straight into someone who was coming out of the infirmary door.

John held the teenager's shoulders to steady him. "Easy, Fermat. You okay?"

Fermat nodded, not quite meeting John's crystal blue eyes. "Y…y…" he replied, his stutter inhibiting him for lying or telling the truth at the same time.

John's hands stayed on his shoulders, which told Fermat he was busted. He sighed, looking back at the infirmary door. "Is he okay?" he asked, quietly.

"Virgil's got him stabilised," John told him, gently.

This time, Fermat looked up and it was John's turn to avoid eye contact. "I have to kn…kn…you can tell me, John," Fermat insisted.

John sighed and jerked his head towards the blue couch that served as a waiting area for the infirmary.

"Gordon told me The Hood was trying to hurt Alan," Fermat said as they both sat down. "He didn't hurt him, did he? Did Tintin stop him in time?"

"Tintin was invaluable," John replied. "She was able to support Alan when we couldn't. But she couldn't get there in time to stop The Hood from hurting Alan. It took us a while to figure out what was happening. By the time we did, Alan was in a pretty bad way. We don't know exactly what happened, but he's got a head laceration and bruising on his cheekbone. Virgil says no sign of a fracture, but we'll know more when Alan wakes up. He's also got a lot of bruising on his stomach, so he'll be sore for a couple of weeks."

Fermat looked at the floor.

John could see the guilt shining in his eyes. "Hey," he said, his expression serious. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have stopped this from happening."

Fermat shook his head. "I could have," he argued. "I should have sp…sp…I was so caught up in my assignment, I never hung out with Alan. Maybe if I had, I would have no…no…maybe Alan would have talked to me about it."

John put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Maybe," he mused. "Or maybe Alan was determined not to let anyone find out. You know how stubborn he can be. You were working very hard for your aspiration and Alan knew that. Alan would never blame you for what happened, and neither should you."

Fermat nodded, throwing a grateful smile at the blonde astronaut. They may not have been related, but sometimes the Tracy boys were like brothers to him. He knew when they were right.

He sighed, looking towards the door that stood between him and his best friend.

"Do you want me come with you?" John asked, ever the mind reader.

Fermat shook his head. "Nah, it's okay," he replied, getting up. "Thanks John."

John nodded, slapping his thighs lightly as he stood up. "In that case, I'm off to the kitchen. Onaha found out I haven't eaten in four hours and so I have been _summoned_."

His blue eyes widened as he gave Fermat an I-am-a-zombie-who-is-about-to-eat-you look. Fermat had to chuckle. Summoning his courage, he pressed the button on the wall. The door opened with a hiss.

He was greeted by four worried faces looking up to see who had entered. Swallowing, Fermat moved slowly towards the bed. There lay a sight he had both anticipated and dreaded. His best friend was asleep. The white sheets that covered his torso only emphasised the purple and blue bruises that covered him. It was so unusual, even wrong, for him to see the boisterous blonde lying so still. Fermat knew from years of sharing a dorm at Wharton's that Alan was a restless sleeper. He adopted the most bizarre positions, sprawled out on his bed with one or more limbs hanging over the mattress. Here he lay on his back, looking almost too peaceful.

Fermat felt a strong arm wrap itself around his shoulders, offering him comfort he wasn't convinced he deserved.

"He's okay," Jeff murmured behind him. "It's over."

Fermat's rational brain sought the most logical question to ask first. "What happened to The Hood?"

"The guards at the prison managed to sedate him just in time," said Scott, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed with his arms folded. His stance reminded Fermat of a bodyguard; well trained and ready to strike out at anything that came too close.

"What happens when he wakes up?" Fermat questioned. "He could c…c…what if he hurts Alan again?"

"Don't worry," Virgil reassured. The medic was diligently examining the readings shown on the monitor above his little brother's bed. "The stuff they gave him was strong enough to knock an elephant off its feet. It's bought us some time."

"I've pulled a few strings and called a few favours," Jeff announced. "The finest engineers and scientists are working on developing a way to block The Hood's powers and mentally contain him permanently. I'll do my best to convince the government to keep The Hood restrained until progress is made."

"My dad could help," Fermat offered, nodding his head and looking up at Jeff. "He'd want to h..h…assist in any way he could." _And so would I._

Jeff nodded. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to call him first. He'll no doubt be worried about you if I tell him what happened and you're not there."

Fermat nodded, eyes returning to Alan. Jeff noticed the boy's reluctance to leave his friend. He squeezed Fermat's shoulder. "Why don't we both go? You can see you dad and come straight back to see Alan whilst I talk to him about the project at hand."

Fermat nodded. "Sure," he agreed, though his voice was distant.

Gordon, who was perched on the bed closest to him, gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, specs. He's fine."

Fermat tried to return the smile, but could not shake the guilt that still hovered around him as Jeff steered him out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi fanfic stars!**

**Have no fear! Despite many rumours and fears - I'm not dead! A computer virus made it impossible for me to upload my files. I was terrified I was going to lose everything! But the crisis is mercifully over. A new chapter begins! Don't get too comfortable though...if you think the worst is over, you are SO wrong!**

**Tell me how much you missed me ;P**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 13**

With no need to uphold the façade anymore, Gordon let his smile drop.

"Any change?" he asked hopefully, looking up at Virgil.

The medic sighed. "Not since the last time you asked me…a whole two minutes ago."

"We have to be patient, fish," Scott told him. "Alan's been through a lot and it's taken its toll on him."

Gordon had to consciously refrain from scoffing. _Patience. Yeah, right_.

Scott stood with his feet firmly planted on the floor, arms crossed, with a stoic expression on his face. Anybody would have read this position as one of patience. But Gordon knew his brother better. The way Scott's left calf twitched, his fingers nervously played with the material of his shirt under his arms, and the two small creases between his eyebrows; they all betrayed the truth. Scott was just as anxious as Gordon.

Turning back to his other brother, he asked, "Isn't there any way of knowing how long it'll take?"

Virgil didn't answer the redhead's question. Instead he put down the chart that he was holding and walked over to pull his brother into a hug. "Gordon, there's no way we could've known," he murmured into Gordon's shoulder.

Gordon had to close his eyes to stop them from tearing up. He hadn't wanted to discuss what was bothering him, but as usual he'd accidentally allowed his impatience to reveal his thoughts. He pulled away from the medic's embrace, clearing his throat. "We should have done something," he quietly croaked. "We promised ourselves we'd look out for him and we let The Hood nearly kill him again."

"Gordon," Scott interrupted through gritted teeth.

The warning went unheeded. "What? Don't pretend you're not thinking about it too," Gordon said, his eyes never leaving the victim of their ignorance. "We should've seen it."

There was silence and for once Gordon allowed it. He wanted everyone, including himself, to mull over the facts as punishment.

"Why didn't he say anything?" Scott murmured a few minutes later.

"He didn't want us to get hurt," Virgil replied stiffly.

"It's not up to him to look out for us," Gordon argued. "We're supposed to look out for him."

"We must be the worst brothers in the world," Scott sighed.

"He probably thinks we don't even care about him," Gordon murmured.

"Stop it."

The three boys turned to see their father standing by the door. They had been so caught up in their discussion, they hadn't even heard the door open.

Jeff approached them wearing a stern expression. "How is this helping Alan?" he asked bluntly.

"I thought you were talking to Brains," Gordon gloomily avoided the question.

"I thought I'd give Fermat a moment to talk to his father alone," Jeff replied darkly, raising an eyebrow. "Beating yourselves up over things that might have happened is not going to help yourselves or your brother," the astronaut told them sternly. "I understand that you feel you have failed, but that kind of an attitude will not help anyone now. I will not have it in this house, or this family. Alan knows he can trust you. He knows that you're looking out for him. Why would he try so hard to protect you if he didn't care about you?"

The boys remained silent.

"Think it over," Jeff told them solemnly. "John and I are going to bring Brains down from Thunderbird 5 and Penny and Tintin should be arriving first thing in the morning."

"What about Thunderbird 5? What if there's a rescue call?" Scott asked.

"If there's a call, we take it," Jeff replied. "I'm diverting all communications to the command and control centre. Fermat has volunteered to man the centre, but I don't want him there all night. I want each of you to take a shift until Thunderbird 5 is back online."

"Yes sir," the boys replied in unison.

Jeff could see the reluctance in each of his boys' eyes. He knew that none of them wanted to leave Alan's side. But he also knew they needed something to keep them from moping around the infirmary all day and night. Hopefully the distraction would serve its purpose.

Nodding in satisfaction, he strode out of the infirmary to prepare for launch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Scott jerked awake for the fifth time in half an hour. His body wanted to sleep, but Scott was resisting the urge with all the strength he had. He looked up from his arms, which were folded into a makeshift pillow for himself on the side of Alan's bed. His charge was still sleeping soundly and to be honest, Scott wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

It had been a long night and Scott knew his senses were not to be trusted. The clock on the bedside table showed it was approaching two in the morning. After dinner, which had practically been force-fed to them all by Onaha, Scott had assumed his position as commander and organised a proper schedule for monitoring the Command and Control Centre for incoming calls. He had sent Fermat to get some sleep and stayed on watch for calls until midnight. Gordon had taken over for a few hours and was due to be replaced by Kyrano at four in the morning.

Sitting up in the chair he'd pulled to Alan's bedside, Scott stretched his stiff body. Something slid down his back and Scott turned with a confused expression to see that a blanket was now curled up around his hips.

_Was that there before?_ He thought.

"You look like crap," a soft voice answered his silent question.

Scott peered through the dimly lit infirmary to see Virgil on the opposite side of the bed. The medic looked at him with a bemused, but equally tired expression.

Scott sighed, offering the medic a grateful smile. "You should get some sleep. I can stay here for a while."

Virgil shook his head and concentrated on the aural thermometer he had just pulled out of Alan's ear. "His temp's up a little. It's natural for the amount of stress his body has endured, but I want to be around to keep an eye on it."

Scott nodded, too tired to argue, though he would never admit it. "Are Dad and John back with Brains yet?"

A routine pick up had proven to be more difficult than planned when a cable on the space station had sparked, causing concern. John and Brains were working to make sure the glitch hadn't compromised any of the systems.

Virgil shook his head. "They're just running one last check. They should be back some time around 0500 hours."

Scott rubbed his eye. "Yeah, I feel sorry for Fermat. He was hoping to see his dad before he went to bed."

"I'm sure Dad will let Brains hang around long enough to see Fermat before he goes to London," Virgil mused, replacing the aural thermometer atop the small trolley of tools he kept close by the bed.

Scott nodded, absentmindedly seeking out Alan's hand with his own as he struggled against another wave of exhaustion that had decided to announce itself.

Virgil observed his brother worriedly. "You should get some sleep," he suggested.

"I'm fine here," was the blunt reply he got.

Experience told Virgil not to push the matter, though he was tempted to grab a hypo for the sake of overruling his brother's stubbornness. If he knew Scott, things could only get worse.

Scott relented to leaning one elbow on the bed, holding his chin in his hand. He gazed at Alan's peaceful face, imagining a slight furrow appearing in his brow and a small moan escaping from his pale lips that would signal his return to consciousness.

Scott lifted his head, frowning when he realised that these signals were not a figment of his imagination. "Virg," he murmured as Alan's head turned to the left.

Virg leaned in as Scott stood to stroke Alan's cheek. "Alan?" the field commander called.

Alan exhaled forcefully, as if struggling against an unseen force. Scott gripped Alan's hand with one of his own, using the other to push Alan's fringe back from his creased forehead.

Virgil gently held his younger brother's other hand, mindful to avoid to IV port that sat on the top of it. "Alan, can you hear us?"

Alan winced and twisted his head to the side, away from Scott's touch. His eyes opened, revealing swirling orbs of blue that were being consumed by wide black pupils.

"Alan? You with us?" Virgil asked, trying to catch his brother's eyes with his own. Alan stared to the side, pupils continuing to dilate as he blinked owlishly. Suddenly, as if he became aware he wasn't alone, the teenager gasped, lurching into a defensive position and raising his arms to protect himself.

In unison, Scott and Virgil each grabbed one of Alan's arms gently, grasping a hand and squeezing it in support. At first Alan fought. Then he looked up and recognised his brothers.

"Scott?" he murmured, looking down nervously when Scott confirmed with a nod and a smile. "Virg," he exhaled a few seconds later, shooting his second brother an apologetic glance.

Virgil gently lowered Alan's arm, giving his brother's hand another gentle squeeze. "Hey, sprout. Welcome back."

Alan relaxed a little, letting out a ragged breath. He slowly wiggled the fingers of the hand that was encased in Scott's. The sensation of his brother's skin against his reassured him enough to convince him that he wasn't dreaming. Memories hovered in his head like a fog. He could make out blurs, but could not grasp his thoughts any more than he could grasp smoke. His efforts to persist were rewarded by a headache that crashed into his temples.

"Take it easy, kiddo. It's okay," Scott soothed in response to the gasp Alan had unknowingly let escape him.

Alan nodded absentmindedly, squeezing both eyes shut.

Observing his brother's discomfort with a frown, Virgil gently rubbed Alan's arm, pulling out a penlight. "Look at me, Alan," he gently commanded.

Alan's eyes opened a crack to offer him a look of disdain.

"Head hurts, huh? Virgil murmured, gently lifting Alan's right eyelid to shine the penlight into his pupil.

Alan quickly shrunk into the mattress and pulled his head away, raising his left arm to block another attack. _Okay, that hurt_, he concluded.

Virgil persisted, cupping Alan's cheek to turn his head back. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, holding up a hand in front of Alan's face. "Follow my finger"

Alan complied with the test out of exhaustion. He could feel his own thoughts becoming more and more sluggish. The only thing he was becoming aware of was the pain that was slowing creeping through his body. Both sensations encouraged him to let sleep take him.

When Virgil was finally finished, he relaxed and prepared to do just that. His brothers, however, weren't happy to let him go just yet.

"Hey, buddy. Stay with us just a few more minutes, okay?" Scott murmured, rubbing his right arm.

"Why?" Alan moaned, pulling his eyes open.

Scott had to smile at Alan's stubbornness. It was a reassuring sign that his brother was okay. He held Alan's hand, absentmindedly stroking it with one thumb.

"So I can give you something for that headache," Virgil replied warmly. "How's the rest of you feeling?"

Alan let out a halfhearted grunt.

Virgil smiled. "Care to give me details?"

Not really, Alan answered to himself, closing his eyes.

A hand swept his hair away from his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Virgil bent over him, examining him intently with his chestnut eyes.

"I know you're tired," Virgil told him. "But I need to know what hurts, Al."

"Everything," Alan murmured, giving in to unconsciousness.

Virgil looked up at the monitor to confirm that his brother's vitals were okay.

Scott surveyed the medic with sympathy. "Hey, he's going to be fine," he reassured.

Virgil let out a breath. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I was hoping he'd be able to talk to us a bit more, though."

"Talk?" Scott raised his eyebrows. "Virg, you said it yourself; he's exhausted. It's amazing he woke up today. Just give him some time."

Virgil shot the pilot a suspicious glance. "Since when are you so patient?"

Scott replied with a tight smile, still stroking Alan's hand and gazing down at his sleeping brother. Virgil checked Alan's vitals once. "Wake me if you need help," he murmured, quietly leaving.

Scott nodded. It seemed Alan's return to consciousness had even reassured Virgil, which was saying something in the medic's case. Scott shared his relief.

_He knew who we were_, he sighed to himself. _He knew me. Dad's right. It is over. He's going to be okay._

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
_

It was just past five in the morning when a scream pierced the silence of the mansion. Mother hen senses already on alert, each brother immediately bolted awake and ran to heed Alan's call. Virgil, whose room was closest, reached the infirmary first. He ran through the doors, activating the lights to full, to see Scott bent over the youngest Tracy.

Scott held both of Alan's arms as the teenager thrashed beneath him in a panicked state. Virgil immediately went to help.

"He was asleep one minute then he just went berserk!" Scott explained, lurching to catch one of the arms Alan managed to pull free. "I can't wake him up!"

Gordon's arrival was announced by the 'whoosh' of the doors. "What going on?" he asked, his dark brows locking into a concerned frown when he surveyed the scene.

"Nightmare," Virgil replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Are we sure that's all it is?" Gordon asked warily, stilling Alan's blanket-tangled legs with his hands.

"The Hood's sedated, Gordon. I don't think this is his work," Virgil said firmly. He stroked Alan's forehead. "Alan, wake up. It's ok."

Scott grasped his little brother's shoulders and gave them a shake. "Alan, wake up!" he called. "It's just a dream."

They all let out sighs of relief hen Alan opened his eyes. Scott held him steadily with one hand and used the other to stroke his cheek. "Hey, Alan. It's ok. We're here."

Alan's eyes darted to each face before resting on Scott's. He gripped Scott's arm tightly, checking to see his brother was actually there. He felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest. His whole body felt heavy as lead. He realised he'd been dreaming again. The dream had been different to anything The Hood had created, but it had scared him just as much.

He felt his defenses crumbling as tears pooled in his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop bottom lip from wobbling. The dream; a replay of everything that had happened that day, had reminded him of how helpless he'd felt. Despite the three figures protectively standing over him, consoling him, he'd never felt more alone.

Nobody could help him. Nobody understood. Nobody knew what it felt like to be on your own without hope, knowing only pain. The Hood had ruined everything from the start. Right back at the beginning when he'd attacked Thunderbird 5. He could only imagine how John had felt watching his beloved space station being torn apart, all the while enduring broken bones and the agonising wait for help, if it even came.

Virgil was saying something to him. Something about his breathing. But he didn't care. He'd just realised something.

Virgil looked up worriedly at the readings on the Alan's monitor. "Come on, sprout," he soothed, rubbing Alan's arm. "Deep breaths. Just relax."

"We're here, buddy. You're ok," Scott added, observing Alan warily. Alan had stopped thrashing, but was still clearly distressed. He seemed a bit dazed and his eyes wouldn't focus on anything. Gordon shared his older brother's worry. "Come on, sprout. Say something," he encouraged, squeezing Alan's blanket-covered foot.

They all jumped when Alan suddenly grabbed Scott's shirt, pulling the pilot downwards towards him. Scott sat on the bed, holding Alan's hand and trying to pry the teenager's fingers away. "Alan, easy. It's ok."

Alan shook his head, looking around fearfully. "No!" he slurred. "Not what…"

"Kiddo, it was just a dream," Virgil tried to sooth him.

Alan used his free hand to push Virgil away and tried to get up off the bed. He needed to find John. John would know how it felt. John would know how to make the demons go away. He needed John now! He was so afraid. He didn't know what to do…

"No, Alan!"

"Alan, it's okay!"

Hands grabbed at him everywhere and stopped him from moving.

"John! Please! Let go!" he rasped, tears leaking down his face.

"Take it easy, sprout. It was just a dream," said the person whose arms were now wrapped around him, holding him. Was it Scott?

It didn't matter. The person wasn't John. "No!" Alan choked, pulling away. His lead-lined body still wasn't cooperating, but his mind was strong enough to hold one to one thought. "John! Please help me!"

Scott held his little brother tightly, protecting him from an invisible evil. His own shock kept him frozen, sitting on Alan's bed rocking his baby brother.

"John," Alan weakly cried again.

Scott held his brother's head to his shoulder, stroking Alan's blonde hair. Alan shook in his arms. He was beyond scared; he was terrified. "Has Thunderbird 3 landed yet?" he asked the others.

"Kyrano said they came in about five minutes ago," Gordon replied. "They should be doing post-flight checks."

Virgil signaled John on his watch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The island had been eerily silent when they'd arrived. It seemed that the dust had settled in the aftermath of the day just gone.

Which was why John was mildly surprised when his watch beeped.

He shot his father, who sat in the pilot's chair of Thunderbird 3, a quizzical look. Jeff returned it with a concerned frown. John answered. "Hey Virg, what's up?"

"John, where are you?"

Virgil tone made John stop halfway through reading a diagnostic panel. "In Thunderbird 3 doing post flights. Why?"

"Ok, get down to the infirmary as fast as you can," Virgil instructed. "Alan's asking for you and he's pretty distressed."

"I'm on my way," John replied, standing up. He held up a hand when Jeff also stood. "It's okay, Dad. I've got this."

Hurrying out of the hatch, through the silo and into the lift, John felt butterflies in his stomach. He chewed his lip; a nervous habit still present from childhood.

_Why would Alan be asking for me?_ He wondered worriedly. _What can I do?_

True, he'd been the one bugging the kid the most this holiday and had been the one to work out what The Hood had been doing. But as for what Alan was going through now, he had no idea what to do. When the lift door swished open, he ran out into the Command and Control Centre, acknowledging Kyrano with a tight smile before continuing through the hall and finally reaching the infirmary. He opened the door and without hesitation headed directly to Alan's bedside.

Once glance told John that Virgil's description had been a serious understatement. _The kid's not distressed, _he thought. _He's having a full blown panic attack._

Scott was sat on the bed, holding Alan in his arms. Alan was weakly protesting in Scott's hold, occasionally raising his voice to yell at his brother. "Get off me! Please, let go! I need to…"

"Shhh," Scott soothed him, tightening his grip so Alan couldn't twist around and fall off the bed. Virgil was trying fruitlessly to console Alan and Gordon was standing helplessly biting his nails at the end of the bed.

All, except Alan, looked up with expression of relief when they saw John. Scott indicated for John to join him with a jerk of his head.

"We need to get him to calm down," Virgil told the astronaut. "I don't really want to sedate him."

John nodded his understanding. "Alan," he called softly, despite being cut off by another of Alan's panicked exclamations. "Alan, it's John. I'm here."

He sat on the bed as Scott stood up and let go, and caught Alan in his arms. "Shhh, I'm here. You're okay," he murmured.

Alan struggles lessened the familiar voice got through to him. "John," he croaked, tentatively latching on to the new arms that held him.

"It's ok, kiddo," John reassured. He tightened his hug around the boy that shook in his arms.

Alan wrapped his arms around his older brother's neck, pulling him closer. "John, please!" He let out a sob, fingers clutching John's flight suit.

John rubbed his brother's back soothingly. "What is it, sprout?"

"I'm sorry…don't wanna…you know how it feels…to…don't want to be alone…he might…"

John couldn't understand what Alan was trying to tell him, but the shudders that ran through his little brother during his confused rambling inspired John's brotherly senses nonetheless.

"Shhh, shhh, easy," he whispered in Alan's ear. "I'm here."

Alan began to sag in his brother's arms, but was still shaking. His breath hitched as he tried to hide his sobs. _Calm down_, he told himself. _John's here. You're going to be fine_.

But even as he tried to take a deep breath, more sobs escaped and overwhelmed him. He held on to John even more tightly, burying his head in his brother's shoulder.

John was only too willing to hold his distraught sibling.


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again everyone,

I'm very grateful to you all for your patience, and I apologise for not updating sooner.

The truth is, the worst thing that could happen to any author happened to me...My computer was corrupted and the last six chapters of my story - over 10,000 words worth - were completely lost. I've spent the last few months trying to recapture my story, but I've met with several challenges along the way. Nevertheless, I intend to finish it as planned. I hope you enjoy the next chapter, and look forward to hearing your thoughts as always!

Boann

Chapter 14

Stirring coffee had never been more difficult. Gordon's fingers clutched the spoon clumsily as he noisily clanged it across the side of the mug. After John had managed to calm Alan enough to put him to sleep, Jeff had come in and ordered everyone else to bed. Despite how reluctant he'd been to leave his younger sibling, Gordon had been relieved to collapse in a heap on his bed. He'd been ready to sleep away the next sixteen hours but his mind would not stop racing. Every event of the past few days and every possible 'what if' scenario kept running though his head like clockwork. After an hour, he'd given up and trudged into the kitchen.

_Man, I'm so tired_, he kept thinking, scrubbing his face with one hand and stirring the mug with the other. _How did everything get so screwed up…again?_

Things had just started to go back to normal. The Hood had been locked away, repairs on Thunderbird 5 had been going well, and everyone seemed to be smiling again.

Dropping the spoon with a harsh 'clink', Gordon abandoned the coffee to rest his elbows on the kitchen counter and hold his head in his hands.

_Why did this have to happen?_ The question burned a hole through his stomach. _Why did this have to happen to Alan? Why didn't he tell us what was wrong?_

He was too tired to turn and see whose hand now rested on his back. Another hand nudged his elbow gently, encouraging him to move. Gordon stubbornly remained as he was until he heard his father murmur, "Come on, sport."

Jeff steered Gordon by the shoulders away from the counter, up the ramp, and back into his bedroom.

"I've already tried," Gordon mumbled glumly when Jeff sat him down on the bed. The copper haired aquanaut squinted suspiciously at his father when the older man sat next to him. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I've already caught Scott and Virgil pacing in their rooms," Jeff explained. "I want to make sure you boys are all right before I turn in."

"I'm fine." The words had slipped from Gordon's mouth automatically before he realised why. _Stubborn Tracys_, a voice reprimanded him. _Your denials make you no different to Alan. Trying to keep up the pretence that everything is okay, and for what? Your pride? _

"Oh, I know you are," Jeff murmured, knowingly raising an eyebrow. "Which is exactly why you're beating yourself up over not being able to help Alan and wondering around the house like an insomniac."

Gordon bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands. He couldn't find the strength or will to argue. _And it's not because he's right_, he told himself bitterly.

"You boys have always tried to fight your fights alone," Jeff sighed as he watched yet another inner battle being waged with his son. "And, in several situations, that attitude has brought you close to losing against the thing you are fighting."

"This is different from everything else, Dad," Gordon argued. "Alan was being attacked by The Hood! He should have said something!"

"And I am sure that there were times he wanted to," Jeff nodded, keeping his voice calm. "But I don't think that he meant to lie to us because he didn't trust us."

"Then why did he?" Gordon asked, looking up and shaking his head as he searched for the answer. "Why didn't he talk to us, let us help him? Together we could have beat that madman before…"

The prickling in the corners of his eyes signaled the arrival of an emotional response he constantly fought. Tracy men didn't cry. But the thought of Alan; his only little brother, his partner in crime, the loyal, boisterous boy who laughed at his lame jokes and matched him in every challenge coming so close to disappearing forever...For once, Gordon could not contain his emotions. At that moment, he questioned himself. Why did Alan not tell Gordon; the one who knew him best of all? Why didn't Gordon, who knew Alan best of all, notice the symptoms of The Hood's influence? Why did he let Alan push him away? Why had he not tried harder to help Alan? Why had he laughed and shrugged the obvious away?

Gordon gasped thickly when his father's arms wrapped around him, pulling him up into Jeff's chest. "I'm sorry, Dad," Gordon weakly murmured as his tears fell freely. "I'm so sorry. I should have…I should have…"

"Stop it," his father replied in a warning tone he rarely used. "Stop it. This is not your fault. It's not Alan's fault."

"I just don't understand," Gordon mumbled. "Why didn't he tell us?"

"The same reason you didn't tell us all those years ago," was Jeff's reply.

Gordon sat up, looking at the astronaut in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Jeff offered him a sad smile. "When you had your accident, at first you were always willing to tell us when you were in pain, or when something was troubling you."

Gordon nodded. "I knew you would always try to help."

"That's right, you did," Jeff murmured. "But as the weeks passed and the road became harder to travel, do you remember what happened?"

And then it was clear. The switch flipped and Gordon understood. The revelation, however, only increased the ache in his chest and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I shut you out," he quietly replied. "I didn't want to drag you along with my suffering. I didn't want you to see me as I was. I didn't want to disappoint you. I thought that by hiding my pain I was protecting you from having to go through my ordeal with me. I felt like a burden to, and I managed to convince myself that hiding the truth would spare you."

Jeff nodded, happy that he hadn't had to be the one to remind Gordon of his painful past. "Now do you see why Alan didn't tell us? He thought that he was protecting you. He came very close to losing all of us the last time The Hood was here, and he wanted to make sure he wouldn't have to face that again, no matter what happened to him."

"How do you know that?" Gordon asked. "What proof do you have that that's what he was thinking?"

Jeff nodded and cocked an eyebrow. "The proof is sitting right in front of me. You boys share the same stubbornness and desire to protect your own. You would each give yourselves to protect each other. Alan shares those traits. He's a Tracy." With the last sentence, a fond, sad smile crossed his face.

"In this circumstance I don't think that's such a good thing," Gordon sighed, wearily wiping away his tears. He gripped the edge of the bed, leaning forward and taking a deep breath.

"Here we go again," Jeff murmured, causing Gordon to throw him a questioning look.

"How long has your back been hurting?" Jeff asked.

Gordon almost laughed at how easily he had proved his father right. "A little while," he replied. "It's fine,"

Jeff got up and went into the bathroom, reemerging with a cup of water and the meds that Gordon kept in the cupboard. Gordon's injury had healed beyond the expectations of everyone, but often the pain returned as a result of tension caused by stress. And Jeff could always read the small signals.

Silently, Gordon accepted the cup and tablets, downing them in one swallow. His father sat back down beside him, rubbing his lower back.

"Now I want you to get a good night's sleep," he instructed firmly, but gently. "Alan is safe and he'll be fine."

Gordon softly snorted. He had seen the terror in Alan's eyes today. It would be a long time before his little brother was "fine".

Jeff seemed to read his skeptic thoughts. "If you want to help Alan, you need to rest. Then we'll take it one step at a time together. I promise."

Gordon nodded glumly. Jeff took the empty cup from him and helped ease him back onto the bed, covering him with a blanket. Gordon eyed his father as Jeff headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Jeff turned, looking mildly surprised. "I'm um, well I guess I'll just…"

"Go back to Alan and stay at his bedside until you collapse?" Gordon asked knowingly. "Don't think I don't know where we all get our traits from, Dad. Get some rest."

_Caught._ Jeff smiled, nodding. "I will, son. Sleep tight."

Gordon was asleep before Jeff closed the door.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Alan jerked awake for the nineteenth time. Yes, he'd counted. And for the nineteenth time he felt a gentle hand give his a gentle squeeze and saw John smiling tiredly at him from where he sat at Alan's bedside.

"It's ok," the older blonde murmured. "I'm here."

It must have been late morning. A strong yellow light was filtering in through the gaps in the closed blinds, signaling the presence of the mid-morning sun. But rather than appreciate the warm glow, Alan sank further into his pillows. He closed his eyes, hoping for the nineteenth time to fall into a sleep that wouldn't be disturbed by recurring images of the events that had past. He knew in his mind that it was over. The third time he'd woken, he'd been lucid enough to listen to John telling him of Brains' plan to permanently subdue The Hood. The appropriate authorities had been notified of the situation and were cooperating in the preparations. But something, it seemed, was intent on reminding him of what could have happened, and the pain he'd gone through trying to prevent it.

John watched as Alan struggled to sleep. The frown that constantly scarred the teenager's features in both waking and sleep, was becoming tighter and tighter. Finally, after nineteen times of trying to summon the courage, John rubbed Alan's arm to bring his brother to open his eyes.

"Alan, can you talk to me?" he asked gently.

Alan avoided his gaze, his blue eyes glazing over.

John sighed softly so as not to broadcast his frustration. "It's only going to get harder," he murmured. "The longer you ignore it, the stronger it grows."

Alan knew his brother was right. But it didn't make it any easier. "I don't want to talk about it," he murmured thickly.

"I know," John replied, rubbing his arm again. "I know that none of us can possibly understand what you went through. But sometimes talking can help by itself."

Alan could feel the oncoming tears making an early arrival. "It's hard," he replied, his voice wobbling dangerously.

John nodded sympathetically. "I know it is, sprout. But I know you can do this."

It wasn't fair. His brother believed in him, so why did that make him feel worse? Why did he still feel so helpless despite how firmly John held his hand?

He looked up at John with watery eyes, trying to express his sincerity. "I'm sorry," he said, hating the way his voice trembled. He began shivering, suddenly very cold. "I'm sorry."

John leaned in closer, stroking his cheek. "Don't be sorry," he told Alan.

"I just feel so alone," Alan said. "I know you're…all there for me, but I can't…I can't…"

"Shhh," John soothed him. "Take a few deep breaths."

Alan managed only one."He kept telling me," he said. "He kept telling me he'd…I couldn't tell you. I wanted to keep you safe. You have to believe me."

John looked at Alan sternly, unwilling to let Alan's state develop into another panic attack. "Listen to me, Alan," he said, trying to keep his voice soft so as not to make Alan mistake his firmness for anger. "We understand why you didn't tell us, and none of us blame you for that. But you can't block us out anymore. I know you're scared, kiddo. But you need to let us in. He's not going to hurt anyone anymore."

Alan nodded, his breath shuddering. "It's hard," he tried again to explain as another tear rolled down his cheek.

"I know it is," John murmured. "You're not sure that anyone will understand what it feels like to be alone and scared. And so you worry that they'll think you're weak because you feel that way."

Alan nodded again, giving John's hand a squeeze. He was pleased when John squeezed his in response. It gave him the courage to ask the question he'd been burning to ask.

"What was it like?" he asked. "Can you tell me? On Thunderbird 5, when The Hood attacked you and…and you were alone. Did you…were you scared too?"

"Of course I was," John replied softly. "I was hurt. I was alone. I didn't know if my call had been heard. I thought I was going die."

"What did you do?" Alan asked, desperate to learn how John had fought the nightmares and the fear. Alan watched his brother's eyes as John thought. Finally, John sighed deeply.

"I don't know," he admitted. Alan's heart sunk. "But one thing I do remember, something I used to focus on whenever it got bad, was Dad calling my name. In that one moment, I felt such hope. After hours of wondering if I was going to make it and worrying that something had happened to the rest of you on the island, suddenly everything was ok again. I knew Dad was there, and I knew that I wasn't alone. Whenever things got tough, I focused on that memory. It reminded me that I wasn't alone."

Alan wracked his own memory, trying to find something similar that he could rely on to pull him through. But he couldn't. It was all a blurred mess. Panic began to bubble up inside him again.

John squeezed his arm. "It may take you a while to find something that helps you. But until then, don't feel that you're alone. I understand what you're going through in some aspects, so use that."

It all wanted to come out so badly. Alan wanted to tell John everything. He felt that keeping more secrets would be a further betrayal, but finding the strength to talk when he was so physically and mentally exhausted was so hard.

"I promise I'll talk to you guys," he murmured in the end. "But...not all at once. Can we just take it slow?"

John nodded, suspecting he was making some progress. "We can go at any pace you like. It doesn't matter when you feel you need to talk. It doesn't matter if you feel that you don't want to talk at all, we can offer you some company when you need it."

Alan nodded, swallowing the lump lodged in his throat. "I'm just glad you're all okay," he whispered.

John smiled at him lovingly. "So are we, sprout."

The two boys had been so distracted in their talk they hadn't even heard the door hiss open, nor see Jeff step through it. The Tracy patriarch did not interrupt them. Instead, he held his promise to Gordon, turned around and went to bed, a proud smile on his face.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys!**

**A big THANKYOU to Iniysa, MJ2901, and Loopstagirl for the encouraging comments - I'm glad you all liked the last chapter! **

**And I hope all of you enjoy this one!**

**Boann xx**

**Chapter 15**

"Alan, wake up."

The pillow thwacking him on the head made Alan finally pay attention to his brother.

"Go 'way," he mumbled into the pillow he'd managed to hold on to.

"Up and at 'em, lazy bones!"

Honestly, Gordon could be so annoying when he wanted to be, and Alan knew his brother wasn't even trying yet.

"Mmrff!" was the only response he could muster.

A hand ruffled his hair none too gently, and Alan blindly waved his own to swat it away. For a split second, he foolishly thought that Gordon would finally let him sleep the rest of the morning away. The raspberry the aquanaut blew on the back of his neck proved him wrong.

"Gordon! Geez!" Alan cried, looking up and wiping the spit from his neck.

"Ah! The prodigal son awakens!" Gordon proclaimed, throwing his hands up dramatically.

"Not for long," Alan mumbled grumpily, sinking back onto his pillow.

"Come on, blondie," Gordon prompted, giving him another shake. "Doctor's orders."

"Why doesn't Virgil come and tell me himself if it's so important?" Alan grumbled.

"Because you nearly bit his hand off yesterday when he tried to wake you," Gordon replied simply, a sudden dip in the mattress announcing his presence on the bed.

"An important lesson to you all," Alan griped.

Things had seemingly moved quickly over the past few days. Tintin and Lady Penelope had arrived early on the first morning; Tintin rushing into Alan's room and waking the teenager with a monster hug. Despite his tiredness and initial shock, Alan had been only too happy to sit up and spend the next two hours with Tintin in the infirmary. Fermat had joined them, making things feel like old times again. Unfortunately, Alan accidentally fell asleep halfway through a conversation.

The next time he'd awoken it had been to the sound of the klaxon wailing throughout the house and people running down the hall. He'd intended to follow them to the Command and Control Centre to see if he could help in any way. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind when Lady Penelope had slipped into the infirmary. The English beauty smiled warmly at him when she saw he was awake. "Your father sent me with a message, darling," she had murmured as she approached his bedside. "Stay where you are."

Alan had offered her a grateful smile, sinking back onto his pillows and letting sleep take him. The rescue hadn't been too bad, but by the time everyone had returned it was well past dinner time. That's when Alan had been shaken awake.

Jeff had tried to get him to eat a few mouthfuls of dinner, but Alan had been too tired to be hungry. The rest of that night and the next morning had been interrupted by strange dreams and the movements of his brothers checking on him. The next afternoon, Virgil had allowed Alan to return to his own room to sleep. Alan had been grateful to return to his own bed, but he did ask John to stay with him until he fell asleep. John had been only too happy to grant the favour.

Alan had next woken to Gordon running a feather-like finger down the bridge of his nose. The aquanaut had worn a cheeky grin and presented a dish of Onaha's famous roast chicken. Alan had surprised even himself by finishing it.

It was now his third day out of the infirmary, and Alan still felt like the living dead. Even thought he seemed to spend all his time sleeping lately, he still felt so tired. Virgil had told him – many times over – how important it was to normalise his sleeping patterns, and so had made sure that Alan didn't sleep in all day. Three days of being rudely awakened had left Alan with little patience. It wasn't like he had anything to do anyway. He wasn't allowed on rescues, there was only so much time he could play video games with Tintin. Jeff had gone to the England to assist Brains in the court case to gain approval to implement The Hood's device. Fermat had taken the opportunity of a free ride and joined his father. With no distractions to occupy him, Alan only wanted to sleep the day away.

Unfortunately for him, Gordon didn't seem to care.

"Alan!"

"Ow!" Alan yelped when Gordon's harsh shake jarred his bruises. "Gordon, five more minutes!"

"If you fall back asleep, I'm sticking your hand in water," Gordon warned.

Alan knew not to take the threat lightly. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and sat up, glaring at his brother with sleep-filled eyes.

"How did you sleep?" Gordon asked.

"Fine," Alan replied honestly. "No nightmares. Strange dreams though."

He'd been surprised and a little freaked out at the fact that he'd had no nightmares. Instead his brain dealt with the trauma by sending him nonsensical images and scenarios. Alan wasn't complaining, however. At least he slept quietly.

"That's good news," Gordon said, standing up and offering Alan a hand to the bathroom. Alan grudgingly took it.

"I'll wait for you," Gordon told him.

Alan could only manage a tired nod as he closed the door. Stripping off his shirt, he ran the shower and waited for the water to warm up. He closed his eyes, resting his head on the shower door as he waited. He stayed there long after steam began billowing over the shower stall.

_Come on_, he tried to inspire himself. _Get in the shower and have some breakfast. You'll feel better after that._

The words seemed empty and offered no reassurance. He knew what he wanted. After spending nearly a week without sleep, Alan was struggling to keep to the eight-hours-a-night schedule Virgil had placed on him.

_What harm could it do if I just slept for another day?_ He wondered pathetically. Maybe he could talk to Virgil…again. But he didn't see much hope in that. The medic had made it clear that he wasn't going to be swayed, and kept reassuring Alan that his body would slowly get back to normal.

But sleep was so much easier. Alan had no motivation to get up for the sake of everyone else.

_Maybe Virgil will change…his…mind…if…._

The next thing he heard was a crash, and the next thing he felt was pain shooting through his head and elbow.

Gordon, who'd been standing outside, rushed in the moment he heard the commotion, only to find his little brother lying on the floor looking extremely dazed. It appeared Alan had hit the cupboards under the sink on his way down, explaining the crash.

"Alan, don't move!" Gordon firmly instructed as he stepped over his brother's body to help him from behind. He slid his hand under Alan's shoulders, pulling him into a sitting position. "Hey, you ok?" he asked with concern.

Alan blinked, the shock breaking him from his dazed state long enough for him to answer Gordon's question. "Yeah, sorry," he shakily replied.

"What happened?" Gordon asked as he inspected Alan for injuries.

"I was just tired," was all Alan could say.

Gordon winced when he realised Alan's head was bleeding.

"I'm fine," Alan mumbled, feeling Gordon's gaze and his head stinging.

"Uh-huh," Gordon murmured, ignoring the assurance and grabbing Alan's chin to inspect his brother's pupils. Though he couldn't find anything amiss immediately, he put a hand on Alan's shoulder to keep the teen seated. "Does anything hurt?"

Alan cringed. "I think I hit my elbow on the way down," he said.

"Any pain or numbness shooting down your arm?"

Alan rolled his eyes. "Gordon, I'm fine."

"You've smacked your head pretty good," Gordon pointed out as if to prove otherwise. "Can you stand?"

Alan rose on wobbly legs, blinking against the darkness that was beginning to return, creeping around the edges of his eyes. Gordon frowned as he steadied Alan. He couldn't tell whether Alan's lethargy was due to his exhaustion or his head injury. "Whoa," he grunted when Alan nearly toppled over. "Stay with me."

"Sorry," Alan murmured, though honestly he was quite content to let Gordon carry him back. He scrubbed his eyes as Gordon sat him down on the bed. The aquanaut was talking into his watch, no doubt reporting the incident to Virgil, but Alan didn't possess the concentration to pay attention to what was being said. He must have spaced out for a while, because the next thing he knew Virgil was in front of him tapping his cheek.

"No rest for either of us yet, huh sprout?" the medic murmured as he inspected Alan's head injury. Alan frowned when he saw that Virgil was still in his sleeping shirt and boxers.

"How come you get to sleep in and I don't?" he complained.

"Maybe a bit more sleep will be good for him," Alan heard Gordon murmur.

_Yes!_ He wanted to cry.

Virgil surveyed Alan's hopeful face sadly. "Sorry, sprout. Now that you've hit your head, you're definitely not sleeping anytime soon."

Alan let out a harsh sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again in the hope that his blurred vision would dissipate. No such luck.

"Sorry," he mumbled when he saw Virgil eying him with a worried frown. "I'm just tired."

Virgil rubbed his arm comfortingly. "I know, kiddo. Let's get you down to the infirmary. I want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"Maybe we should take him outside later," Gordon suggested as Virgil wrapped an arm around Alan to help him stand. "Fresh air could do him some good."

"Can you go and inform Dad of the situation?" Virgil asked softly. Gordon nodded and left the others to begin their slow, unsteady walk out into the hallway.

Virgil turned back to Alan. "Can you remember what happened?" he asked casually, hoping that conversation would help Alan's lethargy.

Alan frowned at the question. He knew the answer, but he couldn't focus on answering it. He latched onto Virgil's arm with one hand as the darkness fogged his vision. "Virg," he panted. His limbs had turned to lead and his head felt like it was going to topple off his neck.

"Alan, stay…me…just…bit further…don't…," Virgil's garbled voice couldn't reach him anymore. Alan finally gave in to his body's wishes and slumped in his brother's arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys!**

**In celebration of my birthday, I decided to post earlier than scheduled - many happy returns to you all! :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. There are only a few more to go, but a lot for Alan to experience and learn - starting, ever so poetically, in the infirmary of course!**

**I would love ot know what you think, so please review!  
**

**Love Boann**

Chapter 16

Jeff hurried into the infirmary with Gordon at his heels. His brow was creased into a tight frown as he opened the door. His frown deepened even more when he saw Alan asleep on one of the beds.

Ignoring Gordon's soft curse, Jeff rushed to Alan's side, throwing Virgil, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed, a worried look.

"What happened?" he asked. "Gordon told me he collapsed."

"He's sustained a head injury," Virgil explained quietly.

"Then why is he asleep?" Jeff asked.

"Because he collapsed again in the hall!" Virgil exclaimed, surprising both Jeff and Gordon.

Virgil sighed. "He's exhausted, Dad. There was nothing I could do. I'll keep a close eye on him and wake him every couple of hours. He's not showing any signs of a concussion, so I'm hoping his unconsciousness is only a result of exhaustion."

Jeff nodded, stroking Alan's hair. He turned back to Virgil, who was unnecessarily fiddling with instruments on the side table. "Give us a minute," he murmured to Gordon, who nodded and left.

"This isn't your fault," the Tracy patriarch told Virgil.

Virgil stopped fiddling, leaning against the table with a sigh. "I don't know, Dad. Maybe I pushed him too hard. Maybe I should have let him sleep more. Then this wouldn't have happened."

"Hey," Jeff firmly interrupted his son's speech. He rounded Alan's bed and wrapped an arm around Virgil shoulders. "You couldn't predict that this was going to happen. Alan is going to be fine."

Virgil shook his head. "He was lucky Gordon was there to hear him fall, otherwise he could have been lying on the bathroom floor for God knows…"

"Alan is going to be fine," Jeff reiterated sternly. "He's not angry at you and neither am I. You did what you thought was right. Let's focus on what needs to happen now."

Virgil sighed again, throwing Jeff a grateful smile. "Well, it's obvious he needs more sleep than he's getting," he said. "I just don't want him growing dependent on sleep, Dad. And it's only a matter of time before he starts having nightmares. I'm surprised he hasn't had any yet."

"Gordon said he's been having strange dreams though," Jeff said, his eyes resting on his sleeping youngest. "So his mind is still restless."

"I'll let him sleep for a few hours around the middle of the day, see if that helps," Virgil suggested.

"You'll let him have naps?" Jeff asked.

Virgil threw him a warning look. "Don't let Alan hear you call it that, but yes."

Jeff chuckled softly. "Okay. Why don't you go and grab something to eat? It's still a while before you have to wake him. I'll stay with him until then."

OoOoOoO

Alan awoke to somebody prodding his cheek. With a grimace, he opened his eyes as best he could, jumping when he saw somebody standing over him.

A strong hand rubbed his arm and Virgil's face came into focus. "It's okay, Alan. It's just me," he murmured with a warm smile.

Alan relaxed, blinking owlishly at the daylight that was streaming in through the blinds of the window nearby.

"Do you know where you are?" Virgil asked gently.

"Sick bay," Alan croaked out, letting his eyes close again. How did he get here? What had happened? Was it The Hood? Was he dreaming?

Virgil seemed to sense his growing unease and rubbed his arm. "You collapsed in the hallway. Do you remember?"

_Oh yeah._ He fallen in the bathroom and hit his head. That explained the headache. Then he had been stumbling down the hall with Virgil. Then…nothing.

Nodding, Alan swallowed through a sore throat. "Can I have water?" he asked softly.

"Of course you can," Virgil replied.

Alan tried to push himself up into a sitting position. He grunted when the world spun and his stomach churned in protest. Virgil caught him before he could topple off the bed.

"Hey, kiddo," the medic softly reprimanded him. "Remember what I said about moving? Take it slow."

Alan nodded, blinking until the world righted itself. Once Virgil had propped him up properly, he handed Alan a glass of water.

"How do you feel, sprout?" he asked casually.

Alan knew the question held much more seriousness and concern than Virgil was letting on. "Tired," he replied, as he had every time Virgil had asked that question in the last few days.

He took a sip of the water and straight away it seemed to soften the sandpaper at the back of his throat. "And my head hurts."

"I'm not surprised," Virgil said with a frown. "Any dizziness, nausea?"

"Not really," Alan replied, finishing the water and setting the glass on the table beside the bed. A moment later his brother's hand was on his forehead.

"You're a bit warm," Virgil mused. "But I think the symptoms you have are a result of exhaustion, not a concussion. Your pupils aren't dilated."

Alan nodded. He remembered Virgil telling him a few days ago that a slight elevation in temperature would be a symptom he'd carry around for a while. It had something to do with his body dealing with the physical trauma. Alan hadn't really been listening when Virgil had initially explained it.

"Are you hungry?" Virgil asked.

Alan shook his head, honestly not interested in food.

Virgil didn't seem to take his reply into consideration. "We'll get you on some food today. It should help dispel your lethargy."

Alan groaned weakly in response, sinking back down into the pillows and closing his eyes. He flinched when Virgil poked his ticklish side.

"Hey, I'm the boss, kiddo," his brother told him with an arched eyebrow. "And besides, you haven't been eating too much recently and Onaha is about ready to serve you my head."

Alan smiled tiredly. References to the little things in life made it feel like things were starting to get back to normal.

But despite how happy he was that things were steadily getting better, he still felt on edge in a way he didn't think could be cured. Fear still clung to him like a leech, sucking out all thoughts of happiness and hope and leaving him feeling sick to his stomach and on the verge of tears. Sleeping was easier. Although the strange dreams he kept having unnerved him, he found facing them much easier than facing the uncertain future.

Unfortunately, meddling brothers did not understand.

"Come on, sprout," Virgil called, an annoyingly all-knowing tone in his voice.

Alan jerked, unaware he'd even closed his eyes again, but deeply disappointed he'd been woken nonetheless. "Go away," he mumbled as his brother gently shook him.

"Not until you open your eyes," was Virgil's simple reply.

Alan opened his eyes to glare at his brother, his nostrils flaring in protest to his awakening. "Want to sleep," he told Virgil, his voice hitching a betrayal of his inner torment.

Virgil looked down at him sympathetically. "I know you do," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No, you don't!" Alan cried, hitting breaking point. "You don't know anything! And you don't care! You're so caught up in playing doctor that I have to collapse twice to get it through to you that I'm not okay!"

His words hit a nerve, and Virgil visibly blanched. Immediately, Alan wanted to take them back. But he knew it was too late.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Virgil murmured, his brandy eyes showing only sincerity.

"Just go. Please?" Alan pleaded, panicking slightly as Virgil raised the head of his bed to bring him up to a sitting position. He looked up at the ceiling to avoid his brother's eyes.

Virgil put a hand on his arm. "I know it doesn't seem easy, but every day it'll get better," he promised.

_How do you know that?_ Alan stubbornly thought, looking to the window. The light burned into his retinas but he still refused to give Virgil his full attention. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.

"Hey," he heard Virgil murmur. The medic began to comfortingly rub his forearm. "It's okay."

Alan took in a deep breath. "It's the light," he lied.

"No, it's not," Virgil countered immediately.

His brother's firm tone encouraged Alan's distress like gasoline on a fire.

"I know you're tired, and I know that makes it difficult for you to fight your demons," Virgil consoled. "But all you can do is take it slowly."

Alan shook his head, feeling no hope from that sentiment.

"Alan, what is it you're afraid of?" Virgil asked, his voice holding no impatience or mocking.

Alan's breath hitched and a tear leaked down his cheek. "I don't…know," he replied.

"He can't get you now. You know that, right?" Virgil softly asked.

Alan nodded. "Yeah," he said. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, but couldn't manage more than a soft gasp.

"Just breathe," Virgil gently instructed, ever psychic about such things.

"What's going to happen?" Alan asked, incapable of taking his brother's advice.

A concerned and confused frown crossed Virgil's face. "What do you mean, Al?"

"What do I do?" Alan asked, cringing as the light caused his head to throb particularly strongly. "I don't know what to do."

"Hey," Virgil hushed him, gripping his arm more tightly. "You don't need to do anything. You shouldn't force yourself to go back to normal overnight. And neither should I. I'm going to give you some time during the day to sleep. Hopefully that will help combat your exhaustion. In return you have to promise me that when you are awake, you'll try not to be alone too much, okay? Find company, find somebody to talk to. The worst thing can do is hide from the world to avoid dealing with it."

Alan thought for moment, before nodding.

Virgil gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand. "You'll be fine, you'll see."

Alan could only trust that his brother was right.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys, **

**One of the last chapters in this story! It's been a long time coming and I've had to drastically shorten this fic after all my chapters were lost (having to rewrite half a dozen chapters is never inspiring).**

**Thanks to those few who reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad to see some are still enjoying this.**

**Boann xx**

Chapter 17

_Alan._

_The voice was growing closer, like a snake slithering towards its prey. Alan could feel the hair on his arms rising like shackles at the sound of it. _

No_, he thought weakly. _Not now.

_He couldn't afford to be distracted. In front of him, lying on his desk, was the most difficult math test Professor Hawk had ever given. He'd been trying so hard to study for it. He couldn't fail! The look of disappointment on his father and brothers' faces would be something he couldn't bear to see. _

_Alan._

_Alan balked. _Go away! Ow!

_He looked to his right when something was jabbed into his ribs. Fermat was sitting at the desk next to him, poking him with a sharp pencil. _

"_Cut it out!" Alan hissed._

_Fermat only grinned and poked him again._

_Alan made a grab for the offending object, but Fermat pulled it quickly away. "Stop it Fermat! We'll get in trouble!"_

_Fermat's grin only widened. _

_Alan._

_Alan whipped his head around, trying to find the source of the voice. But he couldn't see much. Everything around him and Fermat seemed distorted, as though it wasn't quite there. But that didn't matter right now. All that mattered was the test._

Just get through the next couple of hours, and you'll be fine. Baby steps_, he told himself, remembering what his family told him so often nowadays._

_But when he looked down he saw that the paper had disappeared. _

No!_ Alan thought desperately, looking around to see if it had simply slipped onto the floor. _No! I have to finish that test!

_Alan._

"_Go away!" Alan cried. "Fermat, can you…"_

_He looked to his friend and to find Fermat still smiling at him. In one hand he held Alan's test paper._

"_Alan," the spectacled boy said, his voice unnaturally deep and smooth._

"_What?" Alan gasped._

_He lurched backwards when Fermat's eyes turned red and his pupils became slits._

"_Fermat?" he choked, unable to look away from those eyes. "Fermat, please. No."_

"_Baby steps, Alan," Fermat taunted, dangling the test just out of reach. "Baby steps."_

Alan was thrust back to conscious at that moment. He shot up in bed, covered in sweat and shaking. Two strong hands found him in the dark, holding his shoulders. Alan let out a scared whimper and tried to shake them away until a new, much more welcome voice penetrated his stupor.

"Alan, it's ok," Scott softly assured him.

Alan gripped Scott's forearms to make sure his brother wasn't just another illusion. "Scott?" he gasped in a voice that wasn't his own.

Scott pulled one arm away, activating the lamp on Alan's bedside. The soft yellow light warmly illuminated Scott's face.

"Hey, buddy," the pilot smiled, cupping Alan's cheek and eyeing him warily. "You okay?"

Alan tried to slow his pounding heart, nodding. "Yeah," he breathed.

Scott's smile was replaced by a slight frown. "Nightmares finally here, huh?"

Alan looked down, disheartened. "I guess," he murmured.

Scott rubbed his shoulder supportively. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this would happen eventually."

"I thought I was just getting _over_ nightmares," Alan sighed, looking away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" was Scott's soft reply.

Alan shook his head, feeling sleepy again. He let Scott gently ease him back onto his bed and closed his eyes. He vaguely felt Scott covering him with a blanket before he fell asleep again.

OoOoOoO

The next night…

"_Alan, hurry up! We don't want to be late!"_

"_I'm coming!" Alan replied to Scott's insistent call. _

_He knew he needed to hurry. He had to follow Scott. He wasn't quite sure why he had the urge to do either things, but he was sure he'd remember soon. He took off, running after his older brother._

_Alan._

_Alan skidded to a halt. That voice. Where was it coming from? He'd definitely heard it before. _

_Alan._

"_Alan?"_

_Scott was calling him, having noticed his lack of movement. The dark haired Tracy motioned with one arm. "Come on! Keep up!"_

_Shaking off the residual confusion, Alan started running again. He suddenly felt very out of breath. His legs became stiffer as he ran, and soon it hurt too much to run._

"_Scott, slow down!" he called to his brother, who was far ahead of him._

"_Pick up the pace, lazy bones," Scott merely teased._

He doesn't understand_, Alan realised. He tried to explain. "Scott, it hurts," he grimaced. _

_Scott rewarded him with a stern glare, placing his hands on his hips. "Alan, move! Stop fooling around!"_

"_I'm not!" Alan said. He tried to run again, but every movement sent cramps shooting through his muscles. "Scott, I can't. Help me!"_

"_Why can't you keep up?" Scott demanded hotly. _

"_Scott, I…" Alan was too breathless to answer fully. His chest was getting tighter._

_Alan._

_And the voice was back._

What is happening?_ Alan wondered, starting to panic._

"_Alan, move!"_

_Alan._

_Alan cupped his hands over his ears. "Stop it!" he yelled._

_He tried once more to take a step forward, but the next thing he knew he was falling. The last thing he felt was a sharp pain in his head._

Alan sucked in a breath, blinking through the darkness. He panicked when he realised something was in front of his face. Scrabbling with his hands, he found his entire body was trapped in the sheets that were tangled around him. He let out a strangled cry when he realised he couldn't get free. His struggles became more frenzied.

"Alan."

_No!_ He thought despairingly, not quite recognising the voice above him.

"Alan, calm down! It's okay!"

Alan jumped when the sheet was pulled off him to reveal Virgil kneeling next to him in the dark.

_Oh God, I fell out of bed,_ Alan realised, trying to calm himself down. _It was just a dream_.

Virgil was trying to help him sit up. "That's it, kiddo. Nice deep breaths for me," he soothed, placing a cool hand at the back of Alan's neck.

"Ow," Alan grunted when his head pounded.

"I'm not surprised, sprout," Virgil murmured, reaching up to the bedside table to switch the lamp on. Alan squinted as a soft light illuminated his room.

Virgil's soft hiss in his right ear prompted him to look at his brother properly for the first time. But Virgil held his chin and steered his head forward again.

"You've got a pretty bad cut on your head, sprout," the medic told him. "Looks like you hit the corner of your bedside table when you fell."

That would explain a lot, Alan thought gloomily, trying to shake off the nightmare.

Virgil rubbing his back did nothing to help the nausea that was growing in the pit of his stomach. "You okay?" Virgil asked him gently.

Alan closed his eyes and nodded, sucking in oxygen through his nose. Raising his knees and keeping his feet flat on the floor, he bent forwards. The nausea was growing worse; the type that indicated you were about to faint.

Virgil seemed to know that type. "You gonna be sick, sprout?" he asked.

Alan wanted to say no, but he wasn't ready to take responsibility for what would happen if he opened his mouth.

"It's okay," Virgil soothed, grabbing an empty ice-cream container he'd stashed under Alan's bed for such situations and holding it under his brother's chin.

Alan sat there for a while, his ragged breathing the only thing penetrating the uncomfortable silence. He swallowed, refusing to let the nausea overwhelm him. After a while, Virgil lowered the container, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him into a hug. Alan stayed there until sleep carried him away.


	18. Chapter 18

**Well a fond hello to you all – I am sure many bets were placed on whether I would return, let alone finish this story! I have missed writing very much, but my recent travelling adventures have left me without the means to pursue such an addictive hobby. I hope this suitably concludes this story, and I look forward to seeing you again when I publish my new one – shh! You heard it here first!**

**Boann xxx**

The nightmares grew uglier and uglier as the nights passed. But it wasn't the chills that ran over his skin, or the cold sweat that rushed to greet him when he finally woke, nor was it the feeling of fear or helplessness that assaulted him every night that frustrated Alan.

Under The Hood's control he had been forced to see, and even do, terrifying things. He had been a puppet, unable to fight or help himself, completely defenseless to The Hood's every twisted desire to make him and his family suffer.

But now, The Hood was gone. And what was worse than the nightmares was the awareness that Alan was responsible for his own torment. It was his own mind torturing itself; nobody else was responsible for his suffering anymore.

At first he had been grateful to always find somebody at the end of his bed, to rub his shoulder and assure him that he was home and safe. But after a week, Alan put a stop to it. It was up to him to fight his demons. It was certainly scary, especially the first night, watching the shadows creep across the wall of his bedroom towards him. When he bolted upright in bed, those shadows were the only things to greet him. Then, after a few nights, he no longer noticed the shadows. It was not exactly a perfect sleep, for his dreams still like to play practical jokes on him. But to Alan, it was bliss to finally feel like he was gaining control of his life. It was strange how something so simple could seem like such a blessing.

The morning no longer seemed like a lifetime away. He no longer dreaded the bedtime ritual, he did not nervously watch the clock ticking closer towards the time he would have to bid his family goodnight. He could finally watch magnificent sunsets again without feeling sick to his stomach.

One clear evening Alan padded through the soft white sand on the beach, looking wistfully out to the setting sun. The fresh ocean breeze blew his blonde bangs into his eyes, and he unconsciously tossed his head to free them. It was nice to feel the last warm rays of the sun dancing on his bare arms.

Everything that had happened seemed as distant as a dream; no joke intended. The nightmares were relenting, and finally things were starting to return to normal. Except his brothers, of course. Despite his desires to be left alone at night being respected, Alan had a feeling his family would be fussing for some time yet. A small, fond smile crept across his face.

Alan scanned the beach. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and began to trudge towards it.

"Hey stranger," he murmured as he approached the edge of the jungle.

Fermat, who'd been completely absorbed in whatever he was doing, looked up with a smile. "Hey, shouldn't you be in…in…at the house?"

Alan shrugged, sliding his hands in his short pockets. "Should be," he mused. "But not."

Fermat nodded. "Good to hear you're back to normal."

"What are you doing out here?" Alan asked, eyeing the plastic container Fermat was carrying.

Fermat looked down. "Something I should have d…d…completed weeks ago," he replied. Bending down next to the base of a palm tree, Fermat opened the container, holding it up against the trunk.

Alan's eyes widened when he saw Fermat's spider climb tentatively out of the container and onto the tree. "Fermat!" he exclaimed. "You're project! Isn't it due next week? You won't get in if-"

"Alan."

Alan's mouth snapped shut and the unusual interruption on Fermat's part. His friend was looking at him with mournful eyes.

"I spent so much time on my project that we didn't get to do anything this summer," Fermat said, closing the empty container and standing. "And then I almost lost you forever. I was so s…s…consumed with my own pride that I did even realise what had happened to you."

Alan sighed. "Look, Ferm. I know how much that summer program meant to you. I may have acted annoyed but I never meant to make you feel bad about it."

"No, you were r…r…correct," Fermat insisted.

"So what are you going to do now?" Alan asked, worriedly.

"Well, my Dad could make a c…c…he could get on the phone and get me into the course," Ferma

t pointed out.

Alan nodded, feeling a little disappointed.

Fermat noticed his dismal look. "For next summer," he added cheekily.

Alan lit up. "What?"

Fermat nodded towards the house. "Come on, we've still got the rest of the summer to cook up some wild schemes. Let's make the most of it before school starts."

Alan smiled, jogging to catch up with his friend. "Well, now that you mention it, I reckon the hoversled could do with an engine overhaul."

"And I haven't even reached the f…f…last level of Space Turbo 3," Fermat smiled.

And so the two boys continued to trudge up the beach, concocting plans as they went. Late that night, as darkness fell over the island and the usual monsters threatened to return, Alan Tracy was smiling in his sleep.


End file.
